Bloody ShangriLa
by jamesthestagwhore
Summary: "The way she babbled on about the place made it seem like some sort of promise land, but James knew full well that is was nothing of the sort. Sowsworth was a wasteland that comprised of seven shops, a pub, and the incredibly bored shadows of lonely people. It was not bloody Shangri-la." AU.
1. A Brief Overview of Nowhere in Particula

**AN:** I've been working on this for a while. This is essentially the marauders era but without magic. Although it's a lot more fun than that. I hope I haven't put you off too much. There's no explicit content but I've rated this M for the explicit language. Enjoy.

* * *

_How It Began_

Like soldiers, the schoolchildren trudged through the corridors, exchanging lacklustre rumour and complaints about the overwhelming sunshine. They manoeuvred themselves in a sticky, uncomfortable manner due to an unfortunate combination of a narrow space provided for walking and abnormal amount of heat.

In spite of this hostile environment, laughter managed to survive (no matter how infrequent).

"I am funny!" cried one giggling teenage girl upon entering the hall.

Her friends did not dispute this, but they did not exactly support it either. They merely took their places on the stiff wooden benches and fell silent.

All the students ceased conversation as the doors closed behind them. The only sound to fill the hall was the rapid click of their headmistress' heels against the varnished pine floors.

Miss McGonagall was renowned for that sound. That clicking. The clicking that instilled fear into the hearts of even the most rebellious of her students. Miss McGonagall was not a headmistress to be messed with.

It was only when she reached the very front of the hall did the clicking stop. She positioned herself next to a blackboard on which was written, "Farewell Class of '76."

"Blazers please," she ordered, in a tired voice. It had been a very long school year.

There was a low grumble of objection, but the few students who had neglected to put on their blazers pulled them on nevertheless.

"Might I add that you should have had them on before you entered the hall," she snapped. "Are you or are you not year 11 students?"

A few students nodded but that was all the reply she received.

"Well," she continued, unperturbed, "While you remain secondary school students I expect you to abide by the uniform rules. Those of you who return for sixth form in September will be able to frolic about in whatever they wish."

Sniggering followed this which she quickly silenced: "Within reason! Now, as you know you will receive your O-level results in August."

It was then that a side door burst open and a very flustered receptionist, known by a few students by the name of Rosie, came into view.

She made an attempt to hurry across the hall, however, this attempt was somewhat hindered by her tight skirt and high heels. Eventually, she did manage to scurry (not completely discreetly) over to where Miss McGonagall stood.

All eyes were on Rosie as her footsteps filled the hall with a cacophony of uncoordinated clicks, drastically different from the infamous clicks that Miss McGonagall emitted.

Upon reaching the headmistress, Rosie received a stern look. Smiling apologetically, the receptionist put her weight on the very tips of her toes so she was made a reasonable height and could thereby whisper in McGonagall's ear.

After approximately six seconds McGonagall's stern expression was replaced with her lips becoming thinner and her eyes narrowing dangerously. She murmured a quick "thank you" to Rosie before turning to face to students.

"You are dismissed," she declared before hurrying out the hall.

(Twenty Minutes Earlier)

Seven shops. He counted seven shops. Well, seven shops and a pub.

Given that the last shop he had seen was over eight miles ago, he suspected that these seven shops were the only shops in the vicinity. Oh, and the pub of course.

Overall, the car journey had not revealed any promising aspects of Sowsworth so far.

"It's very... quaint isn't it?" Ilene Potter stammered, her eyes flickering nervously between the road and her teenage son. "James?"

He grunted.

"It's pretty, don't you think?"

"Stunning," he said in a bored voice.

"Excellent."

Sighing, James turned to look out of the car window once more. Sowsworth_ did_ appear to be very peaceful. Peaceful, though, had never particularly appealed to him as an adjective. He didn't trust peaceful.

As they turned down an incredibly narrow road, they were soon graced with the rather unimpressive sight of St. Albus' Secondary School. It was a very square building with an overwhelmingly large quantity of widows and green plastic.

As her hands were no longer required on the wheel, she took James' right hand in her left one and gave it a squeeze. "Do you need me to go in with you?"

James shrugged. "If you like."

"I won't if you don't want me to. I know you don't want your old mum embarrassing you in front of all your new classmates."

It might have been true that Ilene Potter was older than most mothers. She had given birth at the miraculous age of forty-two and the following sixteen years of raising a rowdy young man had not exactly done wonders for her aging appearance, but none of this mattered because her age did not embarrass James in the slightest.

"Come off it, mum," he said, flashing her a toothy grin of reassurance.

"No, don't worry about it. I'll wait here."

"Abandoning me early are you?" he joked.

She flinched. "James, please don't say that."

"It was a joke, Mum."

"Well, it's nothing to joke about. I don't want you to think I'm abandoning you."

"I know, I know. I'm a grown up now, why should you and dad hold back on your dream? Especially since you've been dreaming of retiring to France for all these longs years," he recited, having heard this very reasoning countless times over the previous year.

A brief silence hovered in the humid air between them, broken only by the distant buzzing of insects.

"You better get going," she said.

Nodding in agreement, he leaned forward to give her a quick peck on the cheek before undoing his seatbelt and beginning to clamber out of the car.

He was just about to slam the door behind him when she cried out, "James."

"Yes?" he inquired, sticking his head back in the car.

"Be friendly."

"I'm always friendly."

"You know what I mean, James," she said. "Be nice."

"Always, mum. James Potter: nice and friendly. That's what they all say."

She looked back at him with pleading eyes.

"I'll be nice, mum," he reassured her. "I promise. I'll only be gone ten minutes anyway. I doubt I'll have much opportunity for not-niceness"

"Good luck!" she called after his head as it withdrew from the car once more.

Ilene watched him stroll up to the front doors, exuding his usual confidence. She sighed to herself, knowing full well that ten minutes was more than enough time for her son to exhibit 'not-niceness.'

* * *

The reception area was the obvious place to wait, James knew this, yet his curiosity disagreed with this simple logic and so dictated that he wander towards the mass of students filing into the hall.

The interior of the building was no more impressive than the exterior. In fact, the only impressive quality he deemed the school to have was the astoundingly impressive amount of pine it had managed to incorporate into its decorating.

The student body was small, from what he could see, although his counting ability might've been somewhat compromised by the fact that it looked as though every single girl was wearing a skirt.

After a quick surveillance, his eyes settled on a gaggle of girls just a few inches away. Amongst them were some very nice legs, the longest of which belonged to a chatty blonde.

"I'm serious!" she cried. "He said he was really going to miss me when he left and that we should meet up for a drink some time!"

The other girls just laughed at this.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" she inquired of her friends. "Because he's older? Because he's successful?"

"Because he was our Geography teacher?" came an amused voice. James gave what he had intended to be a quick glance over to the owner of the voice, however giving this girl a quick glance appeared to be physically impossible. At least for James.

She was quite something to behold. It would be stretching the truth to say that she was the most attractive girl he'd ever seen. Nevertheless, it was incredibly hard to look away.

She had very dark red hair, a mercifully short skirt and a nice set of legs to go with it. Objectively, she was a pretty girl. But that wasn't what was captivating him. It was something in her stare. The way her eyes widened, her head tilted, and the corners of her mouth twitched as she looked at her friend. It was almost as if she was saying 'come on now, be serious' with her face alone.

He felt safe to stare at her because he thought it was unlikely that she would notice him. What were the chances of her picking out a stranger's face amongst all the faces she had no doubt known her whole life? Not to mention that James, while being exceedingly confident in his good-looks, did recognise that his appearance was not exactly one that drew attention.

He had grown a lot over the past year and his body had yet to fill out his new frame, thus leaving him looking rather gawky. His hair was a mess of black and a pair of glasses sat upon his long nose. All of this added up to a rather forgettable and hardly noticeable appearance.

"Yeah, Cas, it seems unlikely that Mr Barnes would ask you out for a drink," said a short girl who was rather less than captivating in James' opinion.

"Just because he's a teacher doesn't meant that he can't fancy me!" The blonde girl, whose name appeared to be 'Cas' was quite indignant now.

"Yeah, but Barnes always hated you."

"You never did your homework."

Cas huffed. "Yeah, well I think you're all just jealous!"

"Oh, no!" the redheaded girl spoke again."However did you guess?"

"Oh, shut up."

"Or what?" she asked innocently.

"Or I'll tell your mother on you."

"Oh, please don't!" she pleaded dramatically. "She might punish me for the entire summer!"

Cas narrowed her eyes. "You think you're so funny."

James never heard whether or not the girl with the red hair went on to confirm her hilarity or to deny it because there was a tap on his shoulder.

When James turned to face the tapper the first thing he saw was empty space. Then, upon looking down a few inches, he saw a round-faced blonde woman who was incredibly short despite wearing heels higher than any he had seen before.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice sugary and already irritating. "Are you James Potter?"

"I am," he replied.

"Come with me."

He did as he was told but gave one last look over his shoulder. The redheaded girl was gone.

"I'm Rosie, the receptionist," the blonde woman informed him.

He rolled his eyes. "Fantastic."

She led him down a narrow corridor to a door just past her desk ("that's my desk," she had said as they went passed, as though this might interest him. It didn't) on the door was a bronze plate which read "Miss McGonagall, Headmistress."

Rosie opened the door and nodded her head, indicating that he should enter. "The headmistress is just holding the leaver's assembly, she'll be along in a minute," and with that she closed the door behind her.

A quick scan of the office told him two things: this McGonagall liked books and the dark. There was also an abundance of pine but he assumed that this was not down to the headmistress' personal taste but to that particular wood being the overall theme of the school's decor.

His eyes, after taking in the room, immediately landed on a brown file that lay on the desk. He did not hesitate as he ventured towards the file and picked it up.

The symbol of the front was that of a lion: the logo of his previous school. This told him that the file was exactly what he had thought it to be. It was his school record.

Flicking through it he felt a vague sense of panic. He had never realised how many of his misdemeanours had been recorded.

He wasn't certain, but he might have actually gulped when he came across a page that had been entirely circled in red ink.

"Oh, bugger," he murmured.

He acted quickly, without thinking through any of the consequences which might ensue from what he was about to do.

Making his way over to the bin by the door, he pulled a purple lighter from his pocket and set the offending page alight.

Rosie was not particularly accustomed to seeing smoke emerge from Miss McGonagall's office and was therefore inexperienced in the field of dealing with such a situation.

After emitting a small shriek, she jumped out of her desk chair and hurried towards the hall. It would be best to fetch the headmistress, she had decided.

* * *

James swore loudly as the flames flicked his thumb. He abruptly dropped the paper and left it to burn in the bin.

He gave the door a nervous glance before sighing with relief: he was going to get away with it. Or so he thought anyway. Into the fire went another report regarding "violent" tendencies. He resented that. James had never been particularly violent, in his eyes anyway. He was perfectly in control of his emotions and was not one for fits of rage. He just got bored sometimes. Was it so wrong to relieve himself of boredom by... well, it wasn't important. Just as he decided to add to the fire a detailed account of why he had been banned from taking his O-Level English Literature exam, the door opened.

"Shit!" he cried instinctively.

Miss McGonagall did not look particularly amused. "Mr Potter, might I ask why my bin is on fire?"

"It was like this when I found it," he said.

She gave looking pityingly between the boy and the bin before sighing. "Mr. Potter you have been on school grounds for no more than ten minutes and you have already lied, cussed, and set something alight. We're not exactly off to the best start here, are we?"

He smirked and opened his mouth to retort but she spoke first, "That was a rhetorical question," she said.

She gave the dying embers one last glance before sighing again.

"Very well," she said, sitting behind her desk and motioning for him to take the seat opposite.

She picked up his report, which he had left open on the desk. Upon noticing it to be open and in a far messier state than she had left it in, realisation dawned on her.

"Now, Mr Potter," she began in an exasperated tone. "I'd like you to show me what it was you used to start the fire."

He gave a sheepish grin before diving into his pocket and pulling out the purple cigarette lighter.

"I thought so," she said.

Due to the questioning look on his face, she felt she should elaborate, "You should note that we do not tolerate smoking here at St. Albus'."

"Oh, no," he said quickly. "I don't smoke."

"If you don't smoke then why on earth do you carry a cigarette lighter?"

He shrugged. "To set things on fire."

"Well, that's terribly comforting," she said dryly. "I would like to know what on earth possessed you to set your own files on fire."

"Well..."

"I suppose it never crossed your mind that I might have read your records extensively _before_ admitting you to this school?" she put to him.

"Ah."

"Ah indeed, Potter," she said. "I assume there were certain documents in here which you were ashamed of?"

James nodded.

"Which is understandable, given that you have a clear history of... well _bullying_, for want of a better word."

"Now, Miss," he grinned, "I don't know what would've given you that idea. I've always been terribly popular. My history is completely bully free."

"Which has obviously left you with a very healthy level of self-esteem, but we both know that's not exactly what I meant."

"It wasn't?"

"No."

"What exactly did you mean then, Miss?"

"What I meant was that you seem to have caused a lot of trouble for the other students at your previous school," she said.

"You could say that."

His arrogant grin remained but anyone with any sense could see that this conversation had entered a rather uncomfortable area for him. McGonagall recognised this.

"Don't look so worried," she said. "Whatever you did at your old school, though taken into consideration, will not affect your time at St. Albus'."

"Really?"

"Well, of course if you were to continue the behaviour you demonstrated at your previous school then perhaps we might have to revisit these records." She shot him a meaningful look. "I don't expect to have to though. Are we clear, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes Miss," he said quickly.

"Good," she said, pushing aside the file. "Now, I understand you'll be staying with your Aunt?"

"Yes."

"I trust that she'll keep you in line."

James chuckled at this. "My Aunt Angie is a good cook, not the best guardian."

"How so?"

"Well," he began seriously, "I once spent a summer with her in Cornwall and five girls ended up pregnant."

While he cracked a smile at his own joke, McGonagall certainly did not.

"Potter, while your future classmates might appreciate your humour, the staff will not."

"Noted," he said with a nod.

"I expect to see a drastic change in attitude when you return to us in September."

"I will make sure of it. What attitude would you prefer?" he inquired.

"Respectful would be best."

He screwed up his face in contemplation before shaking his head. "I'm sorry I don't stock that. I can give you cocky with a dash of enthusiasm."

"Potter, I will see you in September."

"Yes, Miss."

"And, Mr. Potter," she called, forcing him to linger a second longer. "A change in attitude please."

Grinning, James gave a quick wink before closing the door behind him.

* * *

McGonagall's office had been so dark that James' eyes had a small moment of panic as he exited the school. After blinking a few times, adjusting to the sudden sunlight, his eyes immediately found the pretty redheaded girl. She was not accompanied by the girls she had been with earlier. Instead she was in rapid conversation with a boy.

Not just any boy, a boy with a truly horrifying face. James smirked as he noticed the scowl the girl was wearing: she was clearly not impressed with his horrifying face either. James could see why. The boy had a large, hook nose and very long, black hair that looked as though it had neither been brushed nor washed since his birth.

James gave a small shudder and brought his gaze back to the much more pleasing picture that was the pretty redhead.

* * *

"It's not that I have a problem with them," said the girl, sighing. "It's just that I don't like what they're doing to you."

"They're not doing anything to me, Lily. I can make my own decisions," he replied.

"I'm not saying that you can't, but they're changing you, Sev."

"They're not as bad as you think they are. If you'd just give them a chance-"

She laughed out loud at that.

"I'm not joking, Lily."

Lily raised her eyebrows at him. "So you're saying in all seriousness that I should attempt to be friends with these people?"

"Y-yes," he stammered.

She gave another laugh of disbelief. "Sev, these people look down on me. They look down on all of us locals! The other day Avery called me a grot."

"I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it."

"Except that I'm grotty?"

"Lily, you can't take everything they say so personally. They're nice people, promise."

She rolled her eyes.

"Come on!" he persisted. "Don't you trust my judgement? I thought we were friends. Aren't friends supposed to trust each other?"

For a second it looked as though he was wearing her down, if only he'd kept his mouth shut.

"Besides," he continued, "they accepted me didn't they?"

"Yes, but when, Severus?" she snapped. "Not until your parents-"

"Lily, don't" he said.

"What? You know it's the truth! If your dad was still around they'd still treat you like the rest of us."

With the silence that followed, Lily looked down at the floor and bit her lip. The boy she called Severus, on the other hand, allowed his gaze to wander away, searching for some way out of the awkward aftermath of their argument.

What he saw did not make him feel any better.

A boy who he had never seen before was staring at Lily. _His _Lily. The stranger caught Severus's eye and received a sullen scowl. He didn't like boys staring at Lily.

The stranger did not scowl back and so, for a few moments of blissful ignorance, Severus allowed himself a flush of pride. This was soon knocked out of him, though. As the stranger walked past, he allowed his shoulder to collide with Severus' and almost sent him to the ground. He was rescued, however, by Lily, who had managed to grip onto his wrist and keep him from falling.

"Filthy git," spat Severus, glaring after the stranger.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Sev, I'm sure it was an accident."

No sooner had the words left her mouth, than James Potter turned and made an obscene hand gesture and cried, "Wanker,"

"Then again," she mused, frowning after him. "Maybe not."

* * *

**AN:** There ya go. That's the first chapter. If you're wondering where the marauders are, they are on their way.

I'd appreciate any and all feedback so that I can get a clear idea of how this story is being received and what I can do to improve it.

Thanks.

Reviews are like kittens but softer.


	2. Introducing Punch & Judy

**AN: **Another chapter for you with hopefully a lot more substance. To everyone who favourited, alerted, and especially those who reviewed, I literally cannot thank you enough. Seriously, your encouragement is everything to me._  
_

I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

_Introducing Punch & Judy_

It was a welcome surprise for Angie Potter when she was greeted at nine thirty in the morning by a knock on the door from Reverend Macdonald.

It was not such a welcome surprise for James Potter when he was woken at nine forty-two in the morning by the two teenage girls who had accompanied said Reverend.

(Nine Twenty-Six)

"I don't see why we're giving her cake," Mary Macdonald muttered darkly.

"Because she did us a favour, now stop complaining," replied her father, smiling as he scolded.

Though father and daughter, Mary and Walter Macdonald could not have differed more in their dispositions. Mary was the sort who muttered darkly. Walter was the sort of never did anything darkly. It was almost as if Walter Macdonald were composed entirely of lightness, and though this lightness was generally helpful to his position as vicar, he had held said position so long that nobody could tell you if his lightness was a direct result of being a vicar or if his being a vicar was a direct result of his lightness. Such a mystery was important because it left speculation regarding the source of Walter's only daughter Mary's rather more negative attitude.

"We paid her," she said. "It wasn't a favour, it was a job."

Reverend Macdonald chose to ignore this particular dark muttering and instead knocked on the door of the woman who had incited such bickering between them.

_It was a welcome surprise for Angie Potter when she was greeted at nine thirty in the morning by a knock on the door from Reverend Macdonald._

"Morning, Vicar," greeted Angie Potter, still in her nightgown but grinning widely nonetheless. "What can I do for you?"

Mary nodded glumly at the cake in her hands. Perhaps the glummest anyone had ever looked whilst being in such close proximity to a cake.

"Oh, that's not for me is it?" cried Angie, smiling even wider at the sight of the cake.

Angie Potter was always one to smile at cake. Not that she was incredibly large, but she was stout at the very least. Perhaps her unnatural shortness did not help her in looking skinny. In her youth she might've tried a bit harder to moderate her weight but she was a rather old woman and had practically stopped caring about her appearance. This was evident in the shocking length of her grey hair, which fell all the way down to her hips.

Once Reverend Macdonald had confirmed that the cake was indeed for her then she was quick to invite both Macdonalds in for a cup of tea.

Walter nodded down at the aging midget as he passed her, entering her little cottage.

Mary, however, was not able to nod down as she herself was practically the same tiny height.

"Thanks again for letting us use your copier."

"Oh, it's not trouble at all."

Just as Angie took the lead and guided her guests towards her kitchen, there was a cry from the outside.

"Mare!"

Mary alone heard this, due to a combination of youthful ears and an inclination towards recognising her own name (or nickname in this case) she turned to see why on earth she was being called at all.

Upon returning to the doorway, she saw the running figure of Dorcas Meadowes.

"Mare!" she cried again, practically lunging herself at Mary. After stopping to catch her breath for a total of four seconds, she spoke again. "I thought I saw you come in here. I was just across the green with Janine and Polly and I said to them, I said 'Oi, that's Mary.' But then I saw you and your dad come in and so I had to run before you vanished."

"Cas, slow down. I don't have a clue what you're on about."

Dorcas sighed and pushed her matted blonde hair away from her face. "Listen, Mary. I really really need you to do me a favour..."

(Nine Forty-Two)

"Absolutely not!"

_It was not such a welcome surprise for James Potter when he was woken at nine forty-two in the morning by the two teenage girls who had accompanied said Reverend._

With a hefty groan, James Potter awoke. He was not particularly happy about being woken by a shrill, unidentified cry.

After yawning and stretching his arms, James propped himself on his elbows and allowed the sunlight to burn his eyes.

"I said no!" came the same voice that had woken him.

Never one to pass up on prying, James followed the voice out of his bedroom and to the staircase. Leaning over the rail he saw two teenage girls.

"No, Mare, listen it's really important!" cried the leggy one who had an abundance of wavy blonde hair and a butterfly clip.

"Well, why can't it wait?" asked the other who was substantially shorter and had brown hair of an unidentifiable length due to it's being stuffed away in a bun.

It appeared that the girls were bickering and they continued to do so, unaware of his presence.

"Okay so you know how last night Colin and I snuck onto the Prewett farm?"

"No, I didn't know that."

Dorcas appeared not to have heard this.

"Well, we sort of ended up behind the chicken coops," a faint blush blossomed in her cheeks. "Anyway, he told me that he really really liked me and I said that if he tried hard enough I could like him back."

"Cas, I really don't wanna hear it."

"So then he told me that he thought I was a real stunner. Way better looking than Maureen Baddock which I thought was such a lovely thing to say because, well you've seen Maureen, her tits are huge! So that sort of got to me and so I let him kiss me."

"Cas, please stop the story," she said.

"We were fooling around for a few minutes, right? It was really nice and everything but then he went and whipped it out! I mean, you don't just whip it out! You've got to wait for the girl to do it. I didn't know what to do, Mare," Dorcas giggled. "So I just laughed, right? Then he got all embarrassed and said we should probably go. I felt really bad after that but I didn't know what to say to make it better so I just told him that he better put it away first."

"Cas!" cried Mary. "I don't wanna be rude but please shut up."

"Don't you want to hear the penis story?"

"Not even slightly."

Dorcas' eyes widened. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to hear stories about my brother's penis."

"Yeah, but it's Colin," said Dorcas, as though this changed matters.

"Yeah, but he's still my brother."

"Yeah, but it's Colin so it's not weird."

"It is weird! And anyway what's this got to do with me covering you at the jumble sale?"

"Well, that's the thing isn't it?" she said, with an extravagant sigh. "He hasn't spoken to me since. So I need to go and talk to him."

Mary crossed her arms impatiently and said, "It doesn't start 'til eleven. Why can't you talk to him now?"

"He's playing football and besides, I might want more than three hours with him..." Dorcas trailed off suggestively causing Mary to wince. "So," Dorcas continued with a pleading smile, "will you cover for me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not spending the day selling broken toys and old textbooks just so you can cop off with my brother."

"That's very selfish of you," said Dorcas sulkily.

Mary rolled her eyes to the ceiling and then, noticing something she had not realised was there, she started.

"Uh, Cas," she said, warningly.

"No it is selfish!" cried Dorcas, not paying attention to anything other than propagating her twisted reasoning.

"Cas."

"Because, right," she explained, "if things go well with me and Colin then that makes two people happy."

"Cas."

"You see? If you just sacrifice a little bit of time then you could make two people you love happy."

"Cas!"

"Fine, don't help," she huffed. "But might I point out that it's terribly unchristian of you."

"Cas, could you please stop dribbling on about your rubbish for one second."

Dorcas raised a questioning eyebrow.

"There appears to be somebody eavesdropping," said Mary.

Dorcas followed Mary's eyeline and found herself staring at a smirking teenage boy.

"Hello," he said, sleepiness evident in his voice.

"Hello," replied the two girls uncertainly.

"Listen," he said. "I don't wanna be rude or anything, but what on earth are you doing here?"

"We could ask the same of you," Mary retored.

"Not really. I live here," he informed them.

The girls looked at each other, dumbstruck.

"Did Angie get herself a toy boy?" Dorcas asked of Mary.

"No she didn't," answered the teenage boy.

Another shifty glance was shared before Dorcas decided it was better to direct all curiosities to the curious boy himself.

"Excuse me," she said. "But would you mind telling us who you are?"

"Not at all. I'm James Potter."

"Right, okay, but that doesn't really help," said Mary.

He chuckled. "I'm Angie's nephew."

"Come for a visit?"

"Yeah, " he said, nodding. "Just a short visit. Two years at the most."

"Two years?" Dorcas echoed.

"I'm staying with her for my A-Levels."

"Oh," said Dorcas.

"Why?" Mary inquired.

"Because my parents have buggered off."

"Where to?"

"To heaven," he said solemnly. "They died."

Dorcas clutched her chest and mouthed the words, "Oh my God."

He cracked a grin. "Just kidding. They went to France, which I reckon might be worse than dying anyway."

"Are you mentally disturbed?" Mary snapped.

"Quite possibly." His grin grew wider.

Both girls still remained thoroughly confused, however they did not get the chance to ask more of the mysterious and nonsensical James Potter as Angie and Walter had just reappeared from the kitchen.

"Dorcas!" cried Reverend Macdonald with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Did you need to use my copier for your newsletter again?" asked Angie.

"Oh, no! Nothing like that. I just really needed to ask a huge favour of your lovely daughter," she announced, nodding towards Mary.

"Don't you dare," said Mary through gritted teeth.

Dorcas swatted away Mary's mutterings and beamed up at the vicar.

"What was it you needed my daughter to do?" he asked kindly.

"Well, I feel awful about it, but I really can't help out at the jumble sale today."

"Oh, no," he said.

"I know! It's terrible. But the thing is, I'm taking English Language in September and I really wanted to get a good idea of the curriculum before I start."

"Okay..."

"Well, your son actually said I could look over the coursework he did last year."

"Did he now?" The vicar beamed at this. He always did light up even more than usual at the mention of his family. "Which son is this?"

"Well, the one who did English Language last year."

"Derek?" he guessed.

"Colin."

"Ah, of course," he said, before turning to Angie and saying, "I lose track of what child does what if I'm honest."

"Yeah, well, he said that he could help me today and obviously the first thing I said was that I was very sorry but I'd made a commitment and I should respect that," said Dorcas so sincerely that even Mary would have believed it had she not known the truth. "But Colin said that he's not going to have a lot of free time so it's now or never really. He was really keen to help."

"Colin is very helpful."

"He is," she agreed.

"Alright then, Dorcas," he smiled. "I'm sure Mary could take your place."

"No I can't!" cried Mary.

"Oh, Mary. Of course you can."

"No," she said stubbornly. "I have other plans."

He furrowed his eyebrows in what was possibly his imitation of a frown.

"What are you doing?" he inquired.

"I'm... having tea... with Polly's family. They asked me weeks ago. It'd be rude to not go now."

"Ah," he sighed. "Well that leaves us in rather a pickle doesn't it?"

"I'm sure James could go," Angie offered.

"Your nephew?" asked Mary.

"That's the one. You've met him have you?"

"Yeah, he was on the stairs..." she trailed off as she noticed the staircase was completely vacant of human life. "Huh, he must've left."

* * *

The minute the vicar had re-entered the hallway, James had been out of there quicker than a flash. It wasn't that he had an issue with the Church as a whole, he just had a small issue with the way that they were constantly trying to get people to help society.

If James wanted to help society he would do it of his own accord. It just so happened that he had very little interest in helping others.

Charity was not high up in his list of priorities.

"James," his aunt called softly from the other side of his door.

"Come in," he replied.

She opened the door a crack and peeped through to see her nephew lying on the bed, reading the kind of magazine that a vicar should not, under any circumstances, see.

"Put that away, the vicar's coming up," she said.

He groaned. "Why?"

"Because pictures of naked women aren't very Christian now are they?"

"No," he pressed, ignoring her comment regarding his magazine. "I mean why is the vicar coming up?"

"Because he wants you to lend him a hand at the jumble sale today."

James did not make any movement other than to turn the page of his magazine.

"James," she prompted.

"Why should I help?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, what's in it for me?"

"James," she sighed. "That's not the point of charity."

"Which is why I don't do charity," he said simply.

"Oh, dear. Who says that they don't do charity?" asked a man with a very deep voice who James could not see because he was still lying on his back and staring determinately at his magazine. In any case, it was not a huge leap of faith to assume that this man was the vicar his aunt had been referring to.

"I reckon that might've been me," replied James.

"Ah, well that's a pity," said the vicar.

Even though he was still not looking, James knew that the man had entered his room.

"Is it?"

"Yes quite. We could really use your help down in the village hall today?"

"Doing what exactly?" asked James.

"It's a jumble sale, see? You'll be unpacking boxes and selling second hand bits and bobs to people."

"Don't you have a charity shop for that rubbish?"

"Ah," he said, lowering himself to sit on the end of James' bed. "That's mostly clothes and books. We mostly pass on old toys and kitchenware."

"Sounds like a real party."

"I think you'd have more fun then you realise."

"Really?" he scoffed.

"It's hard being the new student. This would be a good opportunity to make friends."

James snorted. "I've never had much trouble making friends."

"You might think that now, but this is a very close-knit community. It might be hard to penetrate..."

"Fine!" James snapped. "I'll do it if it'll get you out of my room."

Angie was aghast. "James! We don't talk to guests like that!"

The vicar just chuckled. "Now, Angie, don't be too hard on the boy. I remember I had a mouth on me when I was his age."

James highly doubted that was true but it subdued Angie enough.

"Right, you are," she said. "Would you like another cup of tea before you leave, Vicar?"

"That'd be lovely," he replied and, with a loud creak, he lifted himself off of James' bed. "You'll need to arrive at the village hall around eleven."

"That's fine."

"Enjoy your magazine."

"I will."

* * *

It was not a long walk to the village hall. Angie Potter's house opened directly onto what appeared to be a green and it was just across this green that the hall was situated.

The inside looked rather spacious but perhaps that was to do with the fact that the only objects within the hall were three tables, a dozen or so boxes, and a weary looking teenage boy.

"Hello," said the boy upon James' entrance. He had light brown hair and weak smile.

"Hi," said James.

"Are you here to buy something?"

"Actually, no. I'm here to help out."

The boy raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I'm James Potter; Angie Potter's nephew," he explained.

"I'm Remus Lupin; Olivia Lupin's nephew."

James frowned. "Do I know her?"

Remus bit his lip and conceded, "No, but I thought it might make me sound witty and cool."

"Ah, well it did a bit."

"Really?"

"Eh," said James with a shrug.

Bending down, Remus got a sturdy grip on the box by his feet and, very slowly, began to lift it up. By the time the box was on the table, he looked as though he'd had a run in with a large bear.

"So you're staying with your aunt and she sent you to help out?" Remus guessed.

"Sort of," James replied, strictly avoiding the withered appearance of his new companion.

"Sort of?"

"Well, I'm sort of living with her at the moment," he clarified. "At least until after sixth-form."

"Ah, that's cool," said Remus.

"Yeah, well anyway she sent me here to fill in for someone."

"Who? Meadowes or Evans?" he asked.

"I honestly don't have a clue. She's blonde with really really long legs."

"Definitely Meadowes."

James chuckled. "So what is it we're doing here?" He gave the room a quick glance, hoping that perhaps an interesting activity would strut out from behind a curtain covered in bells and explosives. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for his day.

"We are emptying boxes," Remus announced, on fate's behalf.

"Glamorous."

"Very."

* * *

The two boys received a total of five customers in the next two hours. Due to this lack of custom they were forced to otherwise entertain themselves.

At around one in the afternoon, they were both sitting on one of the tables and playing a rather fierce game of snap.

"You know," said James, throwing down a three of hearts. "I think that card games are possibly the most underrated sources of entertainment."

"I might have to agree with you there... SNAP!" Remus cried. "Does that mean I win? Does that mean this is the third time in a row that I've won?"

"Alright, you cocky bastard, don't get ahead of yourself."

Remus raised an eyebrow and grinned. "You want a rematch then?"

"Nah I reckon you're too good at this game and it's doing awful things to my pride."

"Yeah you're right," said Remus, swinging his legs over the table and hopping to his feet. James followed suit.

"Besides," Remus continued. "We should really get back to all these customers."

"Is it always this eventful?" asked James dryly, glancing around the near-empty hall.

Remus grimaced. "Sometimes there's a Punch and Judy show."

James chuckled. Just as the two boys had seemed to reach an agreement on the state of uneventfulness the pitiful sale was in, an event took place in the form of an opening door.

Into the hall entered a girl with vivid red hair that had not been brushed recently enough, a ragged-looking daisy chain sitting atop of her head, and an apologetic expression on her pretty face.

James felt his mouth get a little dry at the sight of her. He's seen her once before and she had had much the same affect on him.

"I am so sorry!" she cried, taking little notice of James and instead flying over to Remus.

"That's alright," said Remus, very quick to put a halt to any further apology. "It hasn't exactly been thriving to tell you the truth."

"I didn't... think... it would be... busy," she managed to get out between heavy breaths.

"Nah, it usually picks up after lunch," he agreed. "Did you bring the boxes from the Church?"

The girl shot Remus a confused look."I thought Dorcas was supposed to do that."

"Ah right," he said. "I'll go get them then."

"Why? Where's Cas?"

"Otherwise occupied it seems."

"Oh. Is it just us two then?" she asked.

"No we have help."

It was only then that she looked over at James.

"Hi," she greeted warmly. He responded to this with equal warmth and they solidified this meeting with an adequately pleasant handshake.

"I'm Lily Evans," she said.

"James Potter," he replied.

There was something about his face and voice that felt familiar to her, but Lily was certain she didn't know this boy so she asked, "Have you just moved here?"

James narrowed his eyes at her.

"How'd you know I haven't been here the whole time?" he posed the question to her.

Remus and Lily both shared a look before laughing.

"This place isn't exactly a jam-packed metropolis of people," Remus explained. "When you see a face you don't recognise you know it's because they're not from around here."

"Fantastic!" cried James, rubbing his hands together. "I'll be getting all the attention then?"

Lily laughed.

"Right, you two carry on here," said Remus. "I'll get the boxes that Dorcas was supposed to get."

"Oh, no, you don't have to," Lily protested. "I can go."

"Nah, it's fine."

She looked at him with doubt in her eyes eyes. "You sure you can manage on your own?"

"Lily, it's boxes of old toys not a sports car."

"I know but I don't want you to get worn out."

He sighed. "You're worse than my mother, you know that?"

James didn't understand anything that was going on and it didn't sound particularly interesting. He therefore distracted himself by flipping through the pages of a nearby copy of The Broons.

"Alright, alright, go," she said when James had reached the fifth page, raising her hands in surrender.

"Be back in ten," he promised, giving James a quick nod, before departing.

Lily watched Remus leave before turning to look at James, her mouth opening to begin conversation. She was going to ask him what he thought of Sowsworth, how long he was staying, where he was staying, who he'd met, anything really. Lily liked getting to know people. Apparently James did not take much interest in polite chit-chat because he was still reading the comic with great concentration, discouraging Lily from saying anything at all.

Then, finally, James spoke. "Nice hair," he teased.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, taken aback by his breaking the silence.

"I said nice hair."

She frowned. "Is that supposed to be a reference to the fact that I'm ginger?"

"No, it was a reference to the fact that you having a daisy chain in your hair."

Her frown of confusion persevered for a moment or so before it was replaced by realisation.

"Oh, shit. I forgot!" she cried, pulling the thing of her head.

"Is that why you were late? Making daisy chains?" he inquired, trying his best not to wear an amused expression as he closed the comic and discarded it across the table.

"Sort of," she admitted.

"Seriously?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not mad!"

James snorted. "Right, you just have a terribly sane affection for daisies."

"Well actually I do rather like daisies." Lily ignored his look of scepticism. "But that's not why I was late."

"Then how come?"

"Well, my friend Janine stopped me on my way to the church. She'd had an argument with her brother again and she needed someone to whinge to."

"And this factors in the daisy chain how?"

"Well, she _was_ rabbiting on a bit," Lily explained, refusing to meet James' eyes as she continued. "We ended up sitting down on the grass. Then I sort of got a little bit bored and ended up making the daisy chain."

"Well it does sound less mad when you explain it like that," he admitted.

"I'm glad," she grinned.

"There's one thing I still can't figure out, though."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"Yeah," he said. "Why were you on your way to the church?"

"Oh, I was supposed to get the boxes..." she trailed off and turned red.

"Ah, so you lied!" cried James gleefully. "You deceived our poor Remus into doing your work for you."

Lily shook her head frantically, as a child would when they'd been caught stealing from their mother's purse. "I didn't want him to get them! I would've gone myself. I just didn't want to get in trouble for forgetting them."

"How much trouble would you have gotten into?" he asked in disbelief.

"Well, none really," she conceded. "But I just didn't want to look stupid."

"So you thought you'd blame it on poor Dorcas."

She was going very red and still not meeting his eye.

"Oh, don't get all sad eyed just because I caught you out."

"I wasn't."

"Yeah right," he scoffed.

Silence fell between them for another few moments. There was not much left for them to do, however. James preoccupied himself by playing an instrument meant for children. Lily preoccupied herself with staring at James.

She couldn't put her finger on why, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd seen him before. There was just something familiar about the cockiness he exhibited as he knocked out a very jumpy rendition of what sounded like Mary Had a Little Lamb.

He soon got bored of this and made to turn away from the instrument, forcing Lily to gaze elsewhere in order to avoid the utter humiliation that would descend on her otherwise.

"Got bored of the xylophone, did you?" she asked, trying to break the tense silence.

He gave her a sympathetic look. "Come on now, it's a mini glockenspiel."

"Sorry."

"You should be."

Lily let out a breathy laugh. "You said your last name was Potter, right?" she asked, redirecting the conversation and stealing yet another curious glance.

"I believe I did."

"Are you related to Angie then?" She thought that perhaps this was why she knew his face and his hair and his voice and his cocky attitude so well (never mind that Angie held none of these qualities).

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm her nephew. I'm staying with her actually."

"For how long?"

"Until I finish school I suppose," he said.

She glanced at him again. "Oh? What year are you in?"

"I'm going into sixth-form in September."

"Oh!" she cried with a smile. "That means you're in my year."

"Cool," he said, smiling too.

"Am I really that attractive?" he said wearily, after she glanced at him again.

"What?" she cried, nearly jumping out of her skin.

"Well it's just that you keep staring at me."

"I do not."

"Oh, but you do," he insisted.

"Alright," she admitted. "But it's not because you're attractive."

"But I am attractive, right?"

"I never said that."

"That doesn't make it any less true," he said defiantly.

She giggled slightly, almost as though she found him funny but wasn't quite comfortable enough to express this through laughter.

"Why were you staring at me then?" he pressed.

"It's just..." she considered lying, but she didn't know what the point would be. After all, her reasoning wasn't embarrassing in itself. Just the staring. "Are you sure we haven't met before? I feel like I recognise you from somewhere."

"I came here back in July to talk to McGonagall. Maybe you saw me then."

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully, drifting off for a few seconds. Not exactly a long period of time but long enough for James to get bored.

He cleared his through, bringing her out of her daze.

"Sorry," she said, blinking a lot. "I tend to daydream sometimes."

"Am I that boring?"

She didn't answer his question, instead giving him one of her own.

"What do you think of Sowsworth so far?" she inquired.

"Well I haven't seen much of it but it doesn't look like it's the most thrilling place in the world."

"It's pretty though!"

He shrugged. "I've seen prettier. If I'm honest, I'm counting down the days until I can get out of here."

"What?" she snapped, getting incredibly defensive very quickly. "You think you're better than Sowsworth?"

"Well maybe not better exactly... but definitely more interesting."

He flashed her what he had intended to be a jovial grin but it was not well received.

"Well, Mr Potter, I'll have you know that Sowsworth is fantastic," she said matter-of-factly.

"Well, Miss... what's your last name?"

"Evans."

He almost commented on the fact that the name Evans was just as boring as Sowsworth. Almost. The fact that he restrained himself was an incredibly big deal for James, who rarely restrained anything.

"Well, Miss Evans," he said instead. "I'll have you know that I highly doubt that."

"Maybe you're not able to appreciate it but this place is really great!" she huffed. "The people are friendlier than anywhere else, we all help each other out, we have a good school, we have... we have an amazing Christmas Fair, we have... erm... well, we have locally baked bread."

"Wait, the bread is baked locally? That changes everything."

She gave him a sarcastic smile.

"I don't care what you think. Sowsworth is the best place in the world. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. Why do you think all the rich families come and live here? It's peaceful, it's beautiful, and it's friendly. I bet you couldn't find anywhere else nearly as wonderful."

The way she babbled on about the place made it seem like some sort of promise land, but James knew full well that is was nothing of the sort. Sowsworth was a wasteland that comprised of seven shops, a pub, and the incredibly bored shadows of lonely people. It was not bloody Shangri-la.

Still, her babbling was a tad endearing.

Just a tad though.

"How about you show me around sometime?" he suggested in a would-be casual voice. "You could prove me wrong about the place."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?" he asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.

"For starters I have a boyfriend."

"Well we both know that's a lie." She made a noise of protest but he continued to speak. "But let's humour this little boyfriend fantasy of yours for a moment. Why would it matter if you had a boyfriend? I was asking you to show me around the village not to show me your knickers."

She scoffed. "Don't pretend like a tour's all you had in mind."

"Jesus, you're quick to judge!" he exclaimed. "It's a good thing I didn't ask for a map of the place. You might've kneed me in the bollocks and ran away screaming."

"Don't give me any ideas," she warned.

"Anyway, what makes you think that I'm even attracted to you?"

"So you're not attracted to me?"

He shrugged before saying, "Small boobs."

Eyes widening, she was quick to cross her arms across her chest.

"Also," he continued, "this whole making up a boyfriend thing is putting you across as a bit mentally unstable."

"You are a pig and my boyfriend is not made up!"

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"What's his name then?"

"Kenneth," she replied, a little too quickly for James' liking.

"Kenneth?" he cried, as though it was the most absurd word he had ever said.

"Yes. His name is Kenneth."

"Seriously? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's just that you could've named him anything," he professed. "Why Kenneth? Why not Dave or Charlie? Why did you have to pick the ponciest name imaginable?"

"I didn't pick it."

"Whatever you say, Evans."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you, Potter."

"And why's that? Is your boyfriend big?" he asked mockingly.

"No," she said fairly. "But neither are you."

"Oi!"

"What?"

"I reckon that was uncalled for."

She opened her mouth in incredulity. "Are you serious? You haven't stopped insulting me for the past ten minutes."

"Yeah, but I'm trying to get in your knickers so it's not offensive."

She scowled and smacked him very lightly on the shouler.

"So we did order in a Punch and Judy show then," said a smirking Remus.

Neither James nor Lily had noticed him re-enter the hall and were reasonably surprised to hear his voice.

"We're getting puppets?" asked Lily in unnatural casualness.

"Actually I was referring to you two." Remus nodded from Lily to James. Neither made eye contact. "Alright," said Remus, clapping his hands together as though he had exciting news. "I ran into Benjy outside and he said that he wants to help out."

James snorted. "Right, because with this mass of customers what we really need are more people to help out. Why does he want to help out anyway?"

"His mum's angry with him," he explained.

"Why?" asked Lily. "She didn't find him hanging around the Longbottom's again, did she?"

"I reckon she must've."

"Shit."

"So he wants to do charity work because he had a fight with his mummy?" James queried.

"Pretty much."

"Sounds like a wanker to me," said James.

There was something about the way he said that word that seemed a little too familiar to Lily. Then it clicked.

"I knew I'd seen you before," she said quietly.

"Sorry?"

"When you had that meeting with McGonagall a while back," she took a pause she purse her lips in displeasure. "You shoved into my friend Severus on your way out, didn't you?"

He grinned a little. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that. He was an ugly git."

Lily scowled at him and gave his shoulder another whack.

"Oi!" cried James. "This Severus isn't your boyfriend is he?"

"Kenneth is my boyfriend," she reminded him.

"Oh, yeah."

At that moment the supposed Benjy entered, although not alone. He was accompanied by none other than Dorcas Meadowes who was talking rapidly to him.

"And I haven't been able to find him since," she finished. "You haven't seen him have you?"

"Sorry. Last I saw Colin he was running off to the Prewetts with you," he said.

She pouted at this.

"You were my last hope!" she whimpered. "If I can't find Colin then I suppose I'll have to die of boredom here with you people."

"Cheers for that, Cas," said Lily, but she was glad for a distraction from James Potter: he'd suddenly become someone she didn't particularly want to interact with.

"Hiya!" she flashed a smile and made her way to stand beside her friend. "You haven't seen..."

"Colin? No sorry."

Dorcas let out a heavy sigh.

"Well, I suppose I really am stuck here then."

"What so we have five people helping out now?" questioned Remus. "I feel like this is a little overboard."

"Well I'm a late comer so I'll go," said Benjy.

"No I think you're one of the few people who actually want to be here."

"James can go," Lily volunteered at an incredible speed. "I mean, it's obvious he's not enjoying himself."

"That's fine by me," said James, leaving abruptly and defiantly not giving Lily a smile.

"Remus, you can go with him too if you like," Lily's voice had become much kinder in James' departure. "You've been here the longest and I'm sure there's stuff you'd rather be doing."

"You sure?" asked Remus.

"Yeah."

He grinned and thanked her before following James out of the hall.

Lily turned to look at her blonde friend, who was still pouting over something.

"Cas, I'm surprised you didn't volunteer to leave."

"Well I was just thinking that maybe Colin might come in," she said hopefully.

"Not if he's avoiding you," muttered Benjy.

"Wait, Cas, why is Colin avoiding you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she sighed.

Benjy echoed her sigh in relief, "Thank God for that."

"Basically," she began, in direct contradiction with her previous reluctance to talk. "Colin and I decided to go for a walk 'round the Prewett farm because there's hardly ever any other people about."

"Right?" encouraged Lily, ignoring the warning look Benjy was giving her over Dorcas' shoulder.

The poor thing had no idea what story she was in for.

* * *

The sunshine had increased substantially while they had been inside, and so, upon exiting the village hall, both Remus and James removed their jumpers.

"Where are you off to?" asked James.

Remus shrugged. "Home, I suppose."

"Oh," said James, disappointed.

"Why?"

"I dunno." He turned to look at Remus. "I just thought you might want to hang out."

"With you?"

"Unless you've got better friends to hang around," he said quickly.

"Actually, I don't," said Remus.

"Well that's sad. I'm a terrible friend. Just you wait a see." But Remus just grinned at him.

That was the first time James saw Remus give a genuine grin. He had smirked before and laughed a little. But that was the first time he portrayed honest joy.

"What?" James questioned. "I'm serious you know, I am a terrible terrible friend. Awful."

"You're not really selling yourself to me, are you?"

"Well, I reckon I don't have to try very hard."

Remus frowned, "Why's that?"

"Because I feel like we've established an acquaintanceship now that I can utilise for the next two years."

"How so?"

"Simple," said James. "You are obligated to hang around with me whenever I need someone to hang around."

"Well, while that sounds incredibly romantic..."

"Not romantic," corrected James, "manly."

Remus chuckled. "Right right, manly it is."

"And your objection was?" asked James, as the boys strolled across the green.

"What if I don't want to hang around you?"

"Too bad," he stated simply.

"Brilliant."

It was just then that Remus and James' paths were obstructed by three rather well dressed boys.

"Oi, get a load of this," sneered the one to the left who had dark hair and very big eyebrows. "It looks like wheezer has got himself a boyfriend?"

James turned to Remus.

"Wheezer?" he questioned in a whisper.

"It's nothing," said Remus. "They're better off ignored."

"What? No clever comment today?"

"What would be the point? You never understand them," said Remus before fumbling to stuff his hands in his pockets as he walked past them, head high the whole time.

"You're not even going to introduce us to the new Mrs. Wheezer?" one of them catcalled.

"Oi! Mrs. Wheezer!" cried another.

"Yes," responded James, smiling contently. "Although you should know that I generally go by James Potter. Mrs. Wheezer is strictly for dinner parties and Christmas."

The boy with the eyebrows knitted them even further together in a frown which may or may not have been an attempt at intimidation.

"What have you got to say for yourself?" he asked of James.

"Plenty," said James. "Do you have any topic you'd like me to focus on, Eyebrows?"

"It's Bernard. Bernard Mulcliber."

"Well, while that's a very fine name, I'm afraid I shall have to hereafter refer to you as Eyebrows."

Eyebrows rolled his eyes. "Listen, smartarse, I'm trying to do you a favour here. Trust me when I say that hanging around with Wheezer isn't going to do you any favours."

"I'm sorry, correct me if I'm mistaken. Are you trying to seduce me into being your friend? Because I've got to tell you that while your eyebrow action is attractive enough it's not exactly getting me hot and bothered."

Eyebrows made to lunge for James but his two companions held him back, while Remus grabbed James' forearm and tugged him.

"Come on," he muttered.

James conceded, but only because (not that he would ever admit this) he didn't see himself coming out on top in a fight against three angry teenage boys with his only back up being a boy they referred to as 'Wheezer'.

Eyebrows and co did not follow them, and so when they turned down a road named Church Street (quite possibly because of the church not ten metres down it) and seated themselves on the graveyard wall, they felt comfortable enough to resume conversation.

"They were right, you know," said Remus, squinting in the sunlight and fiddling with a lose thread on his trousers. "Hanging around me isn't going to do you any favours."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not exactly the kind of bloke who people want to be mates with, that's all."

"Rubbish," dismissed James. "Do you have murderous tendencies?"

"Well, no but..."

"Are you likely to fondle me?"

"No."

"Do you steal from people?"

"No."

"Do you touch yourself in public?"

"No!"

"Then I can't see what's so offensive about you."

"I'm just not very cool, that's all," he said.

"What?" cried James. "You're very cool. I mean, I've only been here about a day and so far you seem like the only sane person."

Remus frowned, but didn't say anything. Instead Remus appeared to have found a terribly interesting piece of moss between two bricks in the wall. James didn't seem to notice, to Remus' relief, because James was now staring at the church.

After a while, he mused, "You know, there's a football up there."

Remus allowed his eyes to follow James' gaze until he saw the football in question, sitting quite comfortably in the guttering of the church roof.

"Indeed there is," said Remus.

"And nobody's thought to get it down?"

"It's stuck on the roof."

James rolled his eyes. "Yes but surely you can get on the roof. There's a bell tower so there must be stairs up there!"

Remus didn't really know what to say to this, partially because he had never really thought about the roof of the church, but mostly because he'd never had to retrieve a football in his life. In fact, even conversations about footballs made him queasy.

"I'm hungry."

"Me too."

James leapt off of the wall.

"I'm going home for lunch," he announced. "Wanna come?"

"I better not. My mum's making toad in the hole."

"Well I would judge you eternally for missing out on that."

"I'll see you around then?"

"Yeah."

"Wait!" James called after him.

"Yeah?"

"Which house is yours?"

"Number seven."

"Which road?"

"This one!" and with that, Remus disappeared into a little blue cottage not far away.

The blue cottage on Church Street, James noted. He would have to remember that.

* * *

Eyebrows & Co were not happy. In fact, their not-happiness incited them so far as to relay their unfortunate encounter to their peers.

In turn, these peers were equally displeased. Thus, chaotic conversation ensued.

"I reckon he's one of the locals," said Eyebrows.

"How come?"

"Because nobody new's moved in around here as far as I know."

"He's not moved into the Dearborn house then?"

"Nah that's still empty," confirmed Eyebrows.

"Also he was hanging out with Wheezer. That's just a major indication of grottiness."

"What did he say his name was?"

"Potter, I think."

"Must be related to Angie."

"She's a local if ever I saw one."

"We can't let gits like that get away with talking like that to people like us!"

"What are we gonna do about it?"

"We ought to teach him a lesson!"

"Do we know where to find him?"

"I know where Angie Potter lives."

"Good. Let's go get him."

"What? All of us?"

"What about your brother?" Eyebrows suggested to the boy whose house they were conversing in.

"Yeah... " said the boy thoughtfully. "My brother would flatten him. Oi Pettigrew, go and get my brother."

The boy called Pettigrew whimpered, "Do I have to?"

"Why? You're not scared of him are you?"

"No! Why would you say that?" he cried.

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Peter. Just go and get him."

"Why do we need your brother?"

"Because," he said proudly, "My brother could do him."

* * *

James had once told McGonagall that Angie Potter was an excellent cook. He hadn't been wrong. At least not about that.

"Smells good," he said appreciatively, entering the kitchen.

"It'll taste better," she replied.

James grinned and leaned over her shoulder.

"What is it?"

"Chicken stew."

"Can't wait," he said. "Just one thing though."

She raised an eyebrow and prompted him with a humming noise.

"Is four not a bit early to eat dinner?" he asked.

"You've got to leave enough time for your stomach to settle before bed," she said matter-of-factly.

James had intended to roll his eyes but at that moment there was a knock on the door.

"Can you get that while I lay the table?" Angie asked him.

James did so and made his way down the hallway.

Upon opening the door, he was greeted with the appearance of a very handsome teenager boy with black hair and grey eyes.

"Hello," said the stranger, flashing an unnervingly toothy grin. "I'm here to 'do you.'"

* * *

**AN: **Thanks so much for reading. I hope it didn't get confusing near the end there.

Feedback makes me smile.


	3. The Whiskey Well

**AN:** It really has been too long. But here I am, with a brand new chapter that's really going to make it or break if for you regarding your tolerance for my crude sense of humour. I hope you enjoy it.

P.S. I've edited the previous chapter, taking stuff out, putting stuff in. It's not massively different so don't worry too much but just so you know.

* * *

_Upon opening the door, he was greeted with the appearance of a very handsome teenage boy with black hair and grey eyes._

_"Hello," said the stranger, flashing an unnervingly toothy grin. "I'm here to 'do you.'"_

James faltered only for a moment before replying, "Are you here to seduce me or to kill me?"

"Which would you prefer?" asked the handsome stranger, narrowing his eyes and curling his mouth into a twisted half-smile.

"Well," said James, failing to be intimidated, "I suppose you are rather _pretty_." If the word pretty was supposed to insult the stranger, it did not work. Instead he grinned as James continued, "Unfortunately I don't think that your prettiness is really enough for me to let you feel me up. I have standards y'know? Maybe if you bought me dinner first, took me out dancing, connected with me on a deep emotional level, told me your name. That sort of thing."

"I could buy you dinner," he offered. "I don't dance though, or connect on emotional levels."

"Why not?"

"I would tell you but I'm afraid that might fall into the category of connecting on an emotional level."

"Alright, this has been pleasant and all but I'm still sort of scared that you're hiding a knife in your coat or something so I'm just gonna close the door and go eat dinner." James backed out of the daylight and back into the dark hallway but before he could do anything else, the boy had stepped into the house. "Come in why don't you," said James dryly.

"Cheers."

There was a sudden clattering from the kitchen.

"James!" cried Angie from the other room.

"Yeah?" he called back.

"I could do with some help laying the table!"

James smirked and folded his arms. "Hang on a mo. I'm not quite sure but I might be in a life or death situation."

The kitchen door flew open no more than three seconds later and revealed a very confused looking Angie Potter. "What on earth are you on about?" she asked, using her hand to blow away the smoke that had followed her out of the kitchen and partially flooded the hall. "Who was at the door?"

Her question was answered, however, once the smoke cleared.

James looked from Angie to the stranger, not quite sure what to expect. Whatever it was he had predicted did not come true anyway.

"Sirius!" cried Angie with delight in her voice and her smile. "What are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you for dinner!"

James had most certainly not predicted this.

The stranger, who had just been called Sirius, said, "Well you know me, Angie. I'm like the Spanish inquisition."

"And nobody expects the Spanish inquisition," she finished for him.

"Precisely."

"You need to watch less television."

"Only when they stop showing Monty Python."

Angie rolled her eyes. "You, Sirius Black, need to interact with people."

"Once they get interesting."

Angie acted as though she had not heard this comment and moved to put her arm around James. "Have you met my nephew?"

"He has," said James, raising his eyebrows at Sirius who raised his in return.

After a moment, Sirius added, "Not properly."

"Well then, why don't you stay for dinner?" Angie inquired of Sirius.

"I've already had some."

"You didn't eat your mother's cooking did you?"

"Not since I was seven," he reassured her. "I ate at Mrs. Ludlow's."

James' eyes went from Angie and Sirius as she pressed him to at least have a bite to eat and take the chance to get to know James because "you never know, you might like him."

For some reason, James could not shake the feeling that his aunt was arranging a play-date. Perhaps it was her determined state; perhaps it was that she had used the word 'friend' an abnormal number of times in the previous two minutes.

"James, what do you think?" asked Angie.

Finally the focus was back on him.

"What do I think about what?"

"Sirius has offered to show you around the village. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Erm…" James didn't really know whether or not he'd like that. What he did know was that he would very much like to stop being treated like a five year-old.

James tore his gaze away from his aunt's hopeful eyes and saw that Sirius was once again wearing his unnerving grin. A murderous smile if ever James saw one.

"Yeah," said James, still taking in the grin. "I can't see why not."

Angie fussed over the boys for a few more seconds, but it wasn't long before she had flitted back into the kitchen with a fearful "I hope the dinner's not burnt," and left them alone in the hall once again.

"Sirius, is it?" asked James. Sirius nodded. "Sirius, can you answer me something?"

"Anything, my love."

"Have I just let my aunt leave me to my certain death?"

And then what was once unnerving shifted into something that almost resembled comforting. The grin was replaced with a chuckle and a genuine smile on Sirius' part.

"Nah," said Sirius, "I reckon you're safe from me." He began to back out of the narrow hallway, still smiling as he added, "Anyone who pisses off my brother is no enemy of mine." Then he was gone.

* * *

The boys of Sowsworth rarely stopped playing football. They would take breaks only to eat, drink, sleep, flirt, and excrete. Otherwise there were having a kick-about on the green. That day was no different.

"Which team are you rooting for?" Lily asked Cas, taking a seat on the grass next to her.

Dorcas looked up and gave a small smile to Lily and the palid boy beside her (although her smile was even smaller for him). Snape didn't smile back.

"The boys going into year thirteen," she replied casually to Lily's question.

Holding back a grin, Lily prompted her, "Any reason you're not rooting for the boys in our year?"

"None that I can think of."

"Nothing to do with the fact that one Colin Macdonald is going into year thirteen and he is currently acting as a topless goalkeeper."

"Nothing to do with that."

"Really? That isn't the whole reason you're watching football? You never watch football."

"Kenneth's playing."

Severus tensed up at the mention of Kenneth but this went unnoticed by Lily who was too busy teasing Dorcas. "What are you trying to say, Cas?" she inquired. "You fancy my boyfriend now and you're rooting for the opposing team to play hard to get? Is this what you're trying to tell me?"

"I just meant that's why you're watching."

"I always watch the last game of the summer," said Lily with a shrug. "They're good fun. Anyway, where are the others?"

Dorcas held up three fingers and began counting them off. "Janine's got that big dinner for all the richies, Polly's working, and Mary hates fun," she announced.

"Ah, yes, that accounts for all of them."

Dorcas giggled. "Severus, aren't you invited to dine with the Richies?" She craned her neck to see around Lily and noticed now that the outfit Snape was shifting uncomfortably in was a little too formal for watching football on the floor. "Nice new clothes," she noted. "I suppose you are going then."

"Yes I'm going," he replied, rather sagely. "But these aren't new clothes."

"They belonged to his dad," Lily explained.

"Oh."

If Dorcas had had any understanding of finance she might have noticed just how nice the clothes were for hand-me-downs from a poor father, but she didn't and so she drew her attention back to the football match.

If Lily had less faith in Severus she might have investigated further, but she trusted him too much and so she allowed her eyes to find her boyfriend.

Catching his eye, Lily waved at Kenneth. He immediately waved back and grinned. Unfortunately this distraction cost him; too busy staring at his lovely girlfriend, he got a football to the stomach.

"Kenneth!" cried Lily, jumping to her feet immediately, ready to run up to him.

He hadn't fallen though, he just appeared winded. After a brief thumbs up (and a hefty groan) Kenneth returned to playing (though somewhat slower than he had been previously).

Just as Lily was about to sit down again, Severus stood up.

"I should probably go, Lily," he told her.

She stared at him, confused for a moment before remembering. "Oh!" she said finally, "Well have fun I suppose." It felt weird for Severus to be the one abandoning her company. Usually she was the one having to dash off. She thought that she'd be used to him having other commitments by now, but she wasn't. She knew that it was selfish of her but she comforted herself with the thought that if Sev had chosen better friends than the richies she wouldn't have minded half as much. Why him and Kenneth couldn't get along bewildered her.

Severus nodded awkwardly, "Yeah I'll try," he said, turning to leave.

"Wait! Are we still walking to school together tomorrow?"

He shot her a confused expression.

"It's the first day of school," she clarified, "We always walk to school together on the first day."

He sighed. "Lily, I don't live in the village anymore, remember?"

"Oh, right. Sorry. So you and your mum are up in the big houses permanently now?" Lily tried her hardest not to sound disappointed but it was incredibly difficult.

Then a boy with glasses was at Lily's shoulder.

"Mind if I interrupt the mother's meeting?"

"We're having a conversation," said Severus sourly.

Lily gave him a polite smile, a little forced perhaps, and asked, "What is it, James?"

"I just wondered if you were busy."

"She's talking to me," said Severus.

"So sorry," said James. "I meant, busy doing something important."

Severus' left hand curled into a fist, but he put it to no use. His fist hung limply at his side. It went unnoticed by his companions and, with the way his nails were digging into his palm, it was doing him more harm than anyone else.

"James, what do you want?" asked Lily with a hint of impatience.

"Like I said I wanted to know if you were busy."

"Why?"

He shot Severus a sideways glance and then nodded in the opposite direction, indicating that he would very much like to answer this question in privacy.

"Fine," Lily sighed before turning to Severus. "I'll be two seconds, yeah?"

Severus shook his head. "Don't worry. I have to leave anyway."

"Yeah, right, of course," she dithered, tucking her hair behind her ear and trying to act relaxed. Trying being the operate word. Lily didn't come off as incredibly relaxed. In fact, she looked about as tense as a person could be without being a corpse. "I'll see you tomorrow at school?"

It was only when Severus was gone that Lily turned her attention to James. He was smirking.

"What?" she demanded of him.

James chuckled. "Well aren't you just full of love today?"

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head free of Severus. "What is you wanted from me?"

"Your time."

Lily frowned at him and cautiously she said, "What are you going to do with it?"

"I'm not going to molest it you don't have to sound so worried."

"Well, my time is very precious. The more I give away the less I have for myself and if I run out of time then I'm cutting my life rather short don't you think?"

"I'd have to disagree with you, Evans," said James. "Time is given to be shared is it not?"

"Which is why you were so quick out of the jumble sale the other day? You were really up to sharing your time there, weren't you?" she asked him, placing her hands on her hips as she did so.

"Oh, so you're recording my every action now are you? I'm touched."

"Alright, Potter, what do you want?"

James looked a little taken aback by this question. "I told you what I wanted," he reminded her. "I would very much like some of your time. I seem to recall you promising to show me around."

"I don't think I promised anything of the sort."

"Too busy remembering my every movement to even take a little notice of anything you do yourself?

"Actually, I remember exactly what I said. You asked me to show you around and I..."

"Said that you had a boyfriend," he finished for her.

"And then you said I had small boobs."

"I think there was some other stuff in between that, Evans!" cried James. "You can't skip stuff out! It makes me look like some sort of insensitive prick."

She scoffed, "How exactly would you say you came off?"

"A charming rogue?" he suggested.

"A horny git?" she countered. That made him a chuckle a bit. James did have a nice laugh, she noted, nice enough to encourage a small amount of twitching at the corners of her mouth but not nearly nice enough for her to show him so much as the post office. "You know that I'm not going to be your bloody tour-guide, Potter. Why did you really want to talk to me? Do you just get off on bothering me?"

"Well now that you mention it, I've been running low on porn recently. I only brought the five magazines with me and they get a bit boring after a while." James let out a heavy sigh. "I mean, I'm not some kind of savage. A bloke needs a bit of variety."

"You're absolutely disgusting," said Lily in a wondrous tone, as though she couldn't quite believe anyone could think such things let alone say them out loud.

James sucked in through his teeth. "Oh sorry!" he cried. "Has sex been invented out here in the middle of nowhere yet?" Then, smirking he looked her up and down (her legs were truly something) and then, very quietly, leaned in said, "I wouldn't mind being the one to introduce it. Have you been around the back of the town hall? It's dead romantic. There's bins and all sorts."

Perhaps he had gone just a little too far that time because Lily's mouth gaped at him in horror, as her eyes widened dangerously.

"You have green eyes," he said, just noticing this.

"I know I do."

"They're very pretty, Evans. You should get them out more often," he said.

James was gone before she could think of a suitable retort.

* * *

The richies (as the locals referred to them) were big on dinner parties. At least once a month, all the families would get together for whiskey, wine, and sitting stiffly on expensive chairs. This month was the first in which Severus Snape was to be attending, and the first that his mother had been to for over sixteen years.

Upon arrival, Severus was dragged to a corner of the impressively large sitting room.

"Don't you look smart," Eileen Snape gushed, smoothing down the collar of her son's shirt and smiling.

"Mum, leave it alone it's fine," Severus grumbled. He looked anxiously over her shoulder to make sure that none of the others had seen. "Can I go and talk to my friends now?"

Her lips pursed. "You'll be careful won't you?" she asked, straightening his tie. Severus jerked away, looking anywhere but at his mother.

"Stop it you're embarrassing me," he said. "They already tease me for being a mummy's boy." He was looking over her shoulder again. Across the room he could see Mulciber and Rosier sniggering over something, and he desperately hoped that something wasn't him and his mother.

"You know, if they were really your friends they wouldn't tease you." Taking his chin between her fingers and bringing his gaze back to her face, she said seriously, "You won't forget who you are will you? Just don't get too friendly."

"You're the one who bought me the new suit," he sneered before pushing past his mother and making his way over to the other boys.

Sighing, Eileen Snape turned away from her boy and took the long walk towards her own circle.

"Eileen!" cried Katherine Mulciber, beckoning for Eileen to sit beside her on the dainty sofa. "I was just telling the girls about my plans for the new golfing club. It'll be fantastic to have one so 'll be such a great bonding opportunity for the children, don't you think?"

"Definitely," agreed another.

"Sorry," said Eileen, confused, "but what golfing club?"

Katherine chuckled, handing Eileen a sherry as she elaborated, "I forget that's you've been a little... out of the loop" Which was putting it lightly. "You must've heard that the Prewett farm is closing down. My husband's going to take over the land and making it into something useful."

"Like a golfing club?"

"Exactly." Katherine smiled.

"Oh," said Eileen, taking a sip of her sherry. "How delightful."

* * *

Later that night, Severus spotted a mousey-haired girl in a very bright dress. Just the girl he was looking for.

"Janine," he whispered urgently in her ear, setting a small spray of spit free as he did so.

Janine turned her face to shoot him a disgusted expression, "Please stand further away from me, _Snape_." As though his last name were a curse word.

"I thought Lily told you to be nicer to me," he retorted, taking a step back from her nevertheless.

"I thought you had bollocks but apparently you need little ginger girls to protect you. Poor thing." She gave an exaggerated pout before moving to sit in a vacant armchair. Unfortunately, Severus followed.

Standing beside her chair awkwardly, Severus said urgently. "Has Lily spoken to you about that new boy? The git with the glasses?"

"Lily, Lily, Lily," Janine groaned, closing her eyes and lolling her head backwards. "I swear to God if you don't stop obsessing over Lily then I'll have to off myself."

"Janine, this is important," he pleaded.

She opened one eye and immediately laughed at his pathetic expression.

"You're really desperate aren't you? If it makes you feel better, no she hasn't mentioned him."

Severus visibly relaxed at her words.

"Oh, wait!" said Janine, kicking her shoes off and tucking her feet under her. "Is this the pervert?"

"Erm... I don't know."

"Well if he's the new boy pervert then yes she has mentioned him, but not very politely." She shrugged. "Hang on a moment! Why do you care who Lily's talking about? If you're going to try and shut her off from any interaction with the opposite sex then this might not be a good time to remind you she already has a boyfriend."

He flinched at the word 'boyfriend' but otherwise ignored it.

"Look," he said, "this new bloke seems like bad news and when I saw her last she was talking to him."

"So?"

Tired of Janine's laid back nature, Severus leaned so his face was uncomfortably close to hers. "This is serious, Janine."

"Jesus you're pathetic," she said incredulously. "I mean, I always knew you were, but it just gets more and more apparent every day. I'd be careful if I were you, Severus, it's only so long before it becomes so apparent that even Lily can't ignore it." She giggled at the way his face was growing paler. "I bet you anything that this new pervert is here to poison her against you!" Janine took immense pleasure in torturing Snape, and when he began to fume she grinned.

"What have you got against me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Listen, mate. I've been stuck with these idiots my whole life." She gestured to the room full of gossiping rich people. "You've been stuck with them for –what?- a couple of months? Let your mum settle in, let the other families prepare their awkward chitchat, and suddenly you're one of them? Not only that but I think you like being a Richie. It makes you feel powerful and in my book that makes you an idiot."

Janine didn't even bat an eyelid when Snape rose once more and stormed off.

* * *

Just after dinner, James Potter received a rather cryptic note slid under the front door covered in what was probably the most untidy handwriting he had ever seen.

_Mr Potter_

_Meet me by the war memorial in ten minutes_

_Tell no one of your whereabouts_

"Hey, Angie!" called James from the front door. "Where's the war memorial? Oh," remembering the last clause of the note, he added, "and that's not where I'm going."

* * *

Humming under her breath, Lily plopped herself down cross-legged on her bed. She flicked through the pages of the magazines before her for a few moments, still humming, before she reached one that pleased her.

Her right hand left the page and fumbled for the pair of scissors beside her. Positioning them ready for cutting, sharp metal ready to tear.

And then her bedroom door flew open.

In the loud crash that came from the opening of the door, Lily's hand faltered and she managed to nip at her skin with the scissors.

Her head shot up and she saw a very flustered looking Dorcas Meadowes storming into her room.

"I need some black clothes!" cried Dorcas.

Lily was left with no time to inspect her bleeding thumb. As Dorcas started pulling things out of her drawer, Lily quickly pushed the magazines down the side of her bed in the hope that her friend hadn't noticed.

Dorcas spun around holding a grey jumper. "What are you hiding?" she asked.

"Nothing," said Lily. "What can I do for you this evening?"

"Lily, if it's porn you don't have to be ashamed."

"It's not porn."

Dorcas sighed. "Fine then, don't tell me. You're so bloody secretive sometimes."

Then she promptly turned her attention back to Lily's clothes.

"What are you doing?" Lily inquired, still cross-legged on her bed, sucking on her thumb to stop the bleeding.

"Looking for something black."

"Why?"

"For stealth or something." Dorcas shrugged. "I dunno. It's what they always do on the telly though."

"Cas."

"Yes?"

"You're not going to break into someone's house are you?"

"Of course not!" she cried. "I'm going to climb up the side of the house and knock daintily on the window."

Lily's eyes widened in shock. "You're knocking on Colin's window I presume?"

"Of course."

"I don't think you are," said Lily.

"Why not?"

"Because it's insane."

"Well how else am I going to get him to talk to me?"

"Walk up to him in the street?" suggested Lily with a shrug.

Ignoring this, Dorcas groaned and slammed a draw shut.

"Why don't you own anything black?" she asked grumpily.

"Because black's a sad colour."

"You're a sad colour," jibed Dorcas, sticking her tongue out.

"Why don't you wear something of yours?"

Dorcas frowned at her as though it were obvious.

When Lily still looked baffled she explained, "Because I don't want to ruin my clothes climbing walls."

"Cas, can you not hear yourself? Anything that involves climbing walls has to be a bad idea."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" she exclaimed, moving to rummage through the make-up that was strewn atop Lily's dresser.

At the word 'adventure' Lily had shot a nervous glance at the gap between her bed and the wall before inquiring, "What are you looking for now?"

"Lipstick," she said. "If I'm not going to be stealthy then I should at least look nice."

"There's some right there."

"Where?"

"Right under your noise."

"It's _peach,_" she sneered, as though the word tasted bad in her mouth.

"What's wrong with peach?"

"Peaches look like hairy bums."

"That's ridiculous."

"Besides," she continued unabashed, "I want red."

"Cas, when have you ever seen me wear red lipstick? Are you forgetting that I am oh so incredibly ginger."

Dorcas let out an overdramatic sigh and slid down onto the carpet. There, she remained silent for a few moments, which was never a good sign.

"Are you alright?" asked Lily, sliding off of her bed to sit opposite her on the floor.

"I was so stupid to think that an older bloke would be interested in a girl like me," she whimpered, hiding her face in her knees, her mass of blonde hair falling to cover her face entirely.

"Oh, Cas!" Lily cooed. "What are you talking about? He said you were better looking than Maureen Baddock and you've seen her."

"Yeah," she said in a small voice. "Her boobs are massive."

"Exactly."

Raising her face, Dorcas nodded slowly and blinked very quickly. For a second Lily thought she might cry.

"How did you get Kenneth to like you?" she asked, coughing her usual confidence back into existence.

Dorcas never cried.

"Well," said Lily, fiddling with her skirts so that she didn't have to look directly at her friend. "He sort of pursued me."

Dorcas grinned. "Yeah, of course he did."

"What do you mean?" asked Lily cautiously.

Dorcas just smiled back at her.

* * *

"I was hoping for a nice-looking bird," said James, smirking at the shadowy figure leaning against a large stone pyramid who replied, "Well at least I'm nice-looking."

"Sirius Black, right?" asked James, taking the final few steps that brought the figure into light.

Sirius nodded in response, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. "Glad I made such an impression."

"Well, it's hard to forget when a dashing stranger turns up on your doorstep."

"You'll make me blush," said Sirius, his handsome face showing no indication of changing colour.

Shaking his head, James glanced at the stone pyramid once more. "I suppose that's the war memorial then?" he asked. "Either that or I've made a grave mistake and am in fact supposed to be meeting with a pretty girl. It would make sense. I wouldn't take you for a note-writer."

Sirius scowled. "Notes are exceptionally useful and tragically undervalued." Before James could even being to formulate a possible response to this, Sirius shifted his weight from the war memorial back into his heavy boots. And then he was walking away, leaving James behind. After a moment, he glanced back over his shoulder at James. "Are you coming or what?"

It took seconds for James to catch up, barely glancing at the area Sirius' arse had just vacated, the words etched onto the memorial blurring as he jogged past:

THE GLORIOUS DEAD. THEIR NAME LIVETH.

* * *

"Where are you taking me?"

"What did I tell you about asking questions?" said Sirius, taking the time to stop and sigh.

James raised an eyebrow. This Sirius Black was rather odd, he thought. Nobody enjoyed a good show as much as James did but the lengths to which this bloke was going to remain mysterious were ridiculous. He had already led him through what felt like thirty acres of wood, only to meet a small hill.

"You know," said James once they were climbing once more, "for my own peace of mind can you promise me that this isn't your murder hill."

Sirius just chuckled.

They were at the top before James saw the well. "Oh God," he breathed. "I'm going to die in a well."

Ignoring this comment, Sirius strolled over to said well and began to pull on the rope that James was surprised was still pullable. The well looked incredibly old. Common sense told James that Sirius could not possibly pull anything of value out of that well, and that served only as further evidence that James' common sense should be ignored at all times: a few seconds later Sirius was pulling out two very expensive-looking bottles of amber liquid.

"Whiskey?" said James.

"Whiskey!"

"Whiskey!"

In fairness to them, it was a better battle cry than most other teenage boys could come up with.

A few sips later they were both sitting on the wall of the well, passing one of the bottles between them.

"Why did you bring me here?" asked James, squinting in the darkness to try and make out the shapes moving between the trees.

"Because this is where I come to get away from my brother and his twatty friends." Sirius took a rather large swig of whiskey and handed it to James. "Well, them and everyone else. Y'know you're exceptionally lucky."

"Why's that then?"

"You're the only adolescent in this shithole of a village that has yet to piss me off," he said.

"Cheers."

"No problem."

Another swig.

In further fairness, they held their liquor better than most other teenage boys did, neither of them throwing up after two thirds of one bottle had gone. Their bladders, on the other hand, were not all that skilled at holding the liquor.

"I need to piss," announced James.

"Lovely."

"Do you think it would contaminate the well if I pissed down it?" James glanced over his shoulder and down into the depths of the well.

"I will make this my murder hill if you contaminate my whiskey well," said Sirius. James made a face but his trousers remained zipped nonetheless.

"Why do you have a whiskey well?" he asked.

"Because my dad will find out I'm stealing from him if I hide it in my room."

"Why?"

"Because my mum cleans my room."

James frowned. Something seemed wrong about that picture.

"You don't seem like the type to care what your parents think," he said.

"Yeah, I usually don't ," said Sirius. "But the thing is that they've promised to buy me a motorbike for Christmas if I behave myself."

Which seemed like a reasonable enough reason to hide whiskey down a well so James didn't query it. His bladder, however, was still not happy with this explanation, still requiring a place to empty.

"I need a bush," said James.

"Then go and find one!"

He didn't need much encouragement. I cannot emphasise enough the intensity with which James' bladder needed voiding. Luckily, there was a bush not far off.

"I've found one!" cried James. Sirius gave him a thumbs up from where he was still sitting on the well, but James didn't see because he was pissing into a bush. That's when he saw it: an animal moving in the shadows. No, that was a human face.

James' eyes met the wide and worried ones of the bush-hiding human face. "Hello," greeted James with a grin. "I don't think we've actually been properly introduced. I'm James Potter and this is my penis."

The bush-hider was then welcomed into James Potter's acquaintanceship with a gratuitous splash. Needless the say that the bush-hider jumped up with both a yelp and a sneer.

"Who the hell are you talking to?" Sirius joined James just as he had zipped up his trousers. Sirius recognised the bush-hider at once: "Snivellus!" he cried. "What the hell are you doing in the bushes?"

A slightly soaked Severus Snape stumbled out into the open. "I was just walking, Black, what's it to you?" he asked. Then he turned to James. "Look what you've done to me!"

Sirius looked from the splash marks on Severus' suit to James' crotch, and then back to the splash marks.

"Hang on," he said slowly. "Is that what I think it is?"

"I am ninety-nine percent sure that it's my piss," said James.

Severus was seething. "You'll have to pay for this!" He tore the spoilt suit jacket off of his body and brandished it angrily.

"Before anyone pays for anything I think we first need an explanation of what the fuck you were doing in the bushes!" cried Sirius.

Severus tore his glare from James and met Sirius'.

"You were spying, weren't you?" said Sirius. "You slimy little git! Were you bribed by my mother to check up on me?"

"I'm not here for you, Black!" spat Severus.

That was when they both turned to James.

"What did I do?"

"Stay away from Lily Evans!"

The corners of James' mouth twitched. "Or what?" he asked, taunting.

"Or you'll be sorry."

"Is that a threat?" James took a step closer to Severus. "Are you threatening me?"

"Yes!"

Nodding slowly, James swallowed. "You know what," he said after some time. "I reckon I might've spoilt that suit of yours for good. How would you like me to make it up to you?"

Severus' mouth hung open a little, halfway between thought and speech, still clutching his jacket.

"How about," continued James, "I take it off of your hands!"

And with a shared glance between Sirius and James, Severus was left alone at the top of the hill, no longer holding a suit jacket.

"Black!" he fumed, chasing after the laughing boys. "I'm going to kill you, Potter!"

* * *

The Evans' household was all too familiar with sulking teenage girls to even bat an eyelid at the sour-faced Dorcas Meadowes in the living room.

"Is Dorcas staying the night?" Mrs. Evans called from the kitchen.

Lily, who was sitting next to said Dorcas on the sofa, replied, "Yes, mum!" before promptly returning her attention to her sad friend. "Cheer up, Cas. We'll have fun! I'll even let you kick Brutus out of my room. You love doing that!"

"Your cat is evil."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "My cat is beautiful. Anyway, we'll have loads of fun. We can watch Monty Python and make fun of people and absolutely not scale any walls!"

"Who can we make fun of?" asked Dorcas, brightening up.

"Anyone you want!"

Lily draped her arm around her Dorcas and allowed her head to rest on her shoulder.

"Mary's getting a bit chubby," said Dorcas hopefully.

"She's growing breasts not putting on weight!"

Before Dorcas could argue that growing breasts counted as putting on weight, there was a knock on the door.

"Who's knocking this late?" Dorcas wanted to know.

To answer the question, Lily had to hop off of her sofa, go into the hallway, and actually open the front door.

"Severus?" she said. "What are you doing here? And why are you so out of breath?"

* * *

There is nothing quite like the unquestionable smell of piss in the early morning. This fact was made clear to James as he clutched the damp clothing. He could feel the sweat from his hand mixing with what he had to keep reminding himself was _his_ urine. Not that he particularly wanted to touch his own urine, especially not in this sober state of mind, but he could hardly just leave it to fester in his bedroom.

It did not take long for James to make his way across the road to his destination. Once he reached the dustbin, he was all set to dispose of the offending object when a voice interrupted him.

"James Potter!" cried Lily Evans, her breathing shallow as she made her way up the hill after him.

"Morning, Evans," said James with a grin, in spite of the piss soaked fabric he was holding.

"Don't you try to smile your way out of this! I know what you did to Severus! That suit belonged to his father!"

This was a new level of angry that James had not witnessed. It scared him a little.

"How'd you find that out?"

"He told me for one," she snapped, not time for beating around the bush. "He knocked on my door last night in right state!"

"I don't think it's fair that you're just taking his word for it," said James.

Lily raised an eyebrow and glanced at the sopping clothing in his right hand.

"Alright, it does seem you've caught me with my figurative trousers down."

She made a face and groaned, "Potter, why couldn't you have just said 'red-handed' like a normal person."

"Because, while my hands are rather spectacular, my crotch is where the magic really happens."

Scowling disapprovingly, she snatched the jacket from his clutches.

"Erm, Evans, you know that is covered in my urine," he said, watching the red-head inspect the jacket. She wasn't listening.

"Oh God," breathed Lily, freezing. "Oh God."

James just stared at her, not sure what to say or how to relieve the tension. He certainly wasn't going to apologise for her disgust when she had known what she was grabbing when she had grabbed it. It wasn't his fault she had touched his piss.

Just when he was going to relate all of those thoughts to her, James noticed something. Even he wasn't self-centred enough to speculate that the tears welling up in Lily's eyes were his fault.

"Evans, what's the matter?"

She shook her head, still staring at that same spot on the inside of the jacket. Finally, she said, "he told me that this was his dad's."

"Sorry?"

Blinking away the tears, Lily stared at that same spot. "The stupid git left the label in." She threw the jacket back to James who caught it against his chest. "Keep the bloody jacket. You stole it fair and square, and it's really expensive so enjoy."

She turned away from him and began the walk to school. The walk she knew so very well, and yet barely knew at all. Severus always walked with her on the first day of school.

* * *

**AN: **Okay! So that's done! School is about to start and maybe I'll make some interesting stuff happen! I mean, it's me so probably not but hopefully you'll find it interesting all the same. Thanks for being patient and thanks for reading this chapter.

Reviewers are my favourite people in the universe.


	4. Leader Of The Opposition

**AN: **Firstly I'd like to thank every single person who reviewed the last chapter (and the others too). So here's the next chapter! Just in time to (hopefully) make this Halloween less depressing. Enjoy.

* * *

Mr Binns was the only man in the world who could make the Blitz sound about as interesting as the life cycle of a fruit fly. This was a problem because he had opted to devote his life to teaching History and therefore nobody learnt anything. They were too busy doodling or dozing or, because he never noticed, talking. As the noise level grew and Lily tried to keep her focus on the bombing of London, she thought that there should be a law against boring people being allowed to teach. If these people really cared about educating, they would stay out of it.

The more Mr Binns drolled on the more Lily felt her eyelids grow heavier and the more Kenneth's shoulder beside her grew in appeal as a pillow. She'd been up late consoling Severus and having her head filled with complaint after complaint about James Potter. Finally caving in, Lily allowed her eyes to close and the memories of the night before wash over her. Severus' voice rang in her ears: "That bloody Potter is the biggest git on the face of the earth. His arrogant smirk needs to be wiped off of his stupid face. He can't just swagger around like he owns the place."

After an hour or two of this only one conclusion was to be drawn: James Potter was a complete and utter bastard.

No, that wouldn't do, thinking of James Potter was not good for her. It reminded her of Severus and she was angry with Severus for lying to her. She was also angry at James for what he had done to Severus the night before and how he had behaved that morning. Not to mention the comments about her breast size, which was, she'd have you know, perfectly average. Lily Evans did not like to be angry.

Just when she had decided to open her eyes once more and focus them on Mr Binns, distracting herself from the harmful thoughts, the star of them entered the room. Clearly determined to be the star of the classroom as well, he made as much noise as possible upon entry. So much noise, in fact, that even Mr Binns looked up.

"Sorry I'm late, sir," said James Potter, his smirk not looking particularly apologetic. When Mr Binns only stared back at him with confusion, James elaborated, "I was going to be on time but then _someone_" (he glanced at Lily when he said this) "threw a soiled jacket at my chest and I had to go home and change my t-shirt."

Lily couldn't help but flush a little at this. Luckily, almost everyone was still too transfixed on the front of the classroom to notice her embarrassment. Everyone except for Kenneth.

In response to her boyfriend's questioning look, Lily scribbled the words, "I'll explain later," on a piece of paper and pushed it across the desk so he could read.

A moment later he looked up at her and mouthed something in response. Lily didn't know what it was Kenneth was trying to say, however, as her talent for lip-reading was practically non-existent. That and James Potter had just been instructed to take a seat so she was using up a large quantity of her concentration on not meeting that boy's eyes.

When Lily finally felt confident enough to look up, Kenneth was trying to catch her attention. He raised his eyebrows at her questioningly, to which she shook her head indicating that she didn't understand. Eventually he pushed her piece of paper back under her nose. On it he had scribbled simply a question mark.

* * *

Lily was one of the first out of the classroom. She had a mission for the three hours or so she had between History and her next lesson, and was keen to start early. The only problem was that her overwhelming curiosity forced her to wait just outside the classroom until her boyfriend appeared and she could ask him what he had mouthed to her in the lesson. Unfortunately for Lily, James Potter had managed to vacate the class much earlier than Kenneth.

"Morning, Evans," James greeted, moving across the hall to stand beside her.

Lily refused to meet his eye as she said with contempt, "We've seen each other already this morning, James." The urine stained and all too expensive suit jacket festered in the corner of her mind.

"True, but I'm wearing a different t-shirt now. It's like I'm a new man altogether so I thought it'd be polite to say hello to you again."

"Were you born like this?" she said, exasperated.

"Handsome?"

"Insufferable."

James grinned.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked cautiously.

He gave a little shrug, not taking his eyes off of her as he said, "Would you rather I frowned?" With that he furrowed his brow and pushed his lips forward into a pout.

Somehow Lily had found herself in some sort of staring match with James Potter and, determined not to have him comment about her staring at him again, tore her eyes away. When she looked past James, she noticed that Kenneth was out of the lesson. She didn't know how long he'd been out, but it was long enough for him to have taken a leaning position against the wall opposite her. His arms were folded and his eyes were narrowed.

"Kenneth!" cried Lily, careful not to allow any part of her brush against James as she made her way over to Kenneth.

Her presence did not cause Kenneth to unfold his arms or widen his eyes. He appeared to be glaring at James, and James had noticed.

"Kenneth?" Lily repeated.

"Sorry?" he asked, coming out of what appeared to be a revere. "Lily!" He smiled at her. "I didn't see you there."

She frowned, confused. "I was waiting for you to come out of the classroom... What are you staring at?" His eyes had once again wandered over to James Potter, who was making rather a show of emptying the entire contents of his bag in an apparent search for something.

Kenneth shook his head. "Sorry, just distracted," he said. "I'm not used to getting up this early."

She nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm knackered. Severus kept me up all night."

It was almost impossible to hold back her smile as Lily heard James choke at her words from across the hall.

"Oh?" asked Kenneth. "Another argument with his mother?"

From where she was standing she heard James mutter, "Of course; a mummy's boy."

Lily's mouth twitched a little as she added yet another point to her mental list of things she knew for certain about this Potter bloke. It was a fairly short list so far: 1) his eyesight was lacking somewhat 2) he was annoying beyond belief 3) he was possibly incontinent, and 4) he was impossibly indiscrete.

"Lily?"

She looked up at Kenneth who was looking down at her curiously.

"Yes?" she asked, confused as to what he was confused about.

"I asked you a question," he said.

"Oh!" she cried. "That reminds me of why I was waiting for you!"

"Because you love spending time with me?" Kenneth suggested.

"I wanted to know what you were trying to ask me in History."

Before Kenneth could distort his already confused face further into confusion, James Potter interrupted the couple.

"Excuse me," he said, standing between the two. "Sorry to bother you but I was just over there," (he pointed across the hall, "trying to eavesdrop on your conversation and I couldn't help but notice how terribly painful it was."

Lily glared up at James, but he continued, "Anyway I was wondering if you two had considered a translator or something because I can't see how his relationship is going to pan out with you two speaking such different languages."

"Sorry," said Kenneth, frowning, "but what on earth are you on about?"

James looked from Kenneth, to Lily, to Kenneth, to Lily, and back to Kenneth.

"Forget it," said James. "You two are giving me menstrual cramps." He began to swagger off, but Kenneth called him back.

"Yes?" said James.

"What's your name?"

"James Potter. You?"

"Kenneth Pritchard."

"A pleasure to meet you, Kenny." James held out his hand and gave Kenneth a cordial nod.

Kenneth shook James' extended hand, but asked, "Who's Kenny?"

James looked to Lily for support but she was, unsurprisingly, on Kenneth's side.

"People don't call him Kenny," she said.

"Then what do they call you?" James asked Kenneth, looking him up and down and smirking at the fact he was taller.

"Kenneth."

"Well that's inventive," said James dryly.

"What do they call you?" he asked.

"Magnificent."

"Interesting," said Kenneth.

"Yeah sometimes they call me Interesting as well." James winked at Lily. "But mostly just Magnificent."

As Lily's eyes flickered between James Potter and her boyfriend, she couldn't help but notice the obvious difference between them. Nobody could say they looked similar. Aside from the long noses and pale skin, James and Kenneth could not have looked less alike. Where James was tall and thin, Kenneth was middling in height and broad in shoulder. Where James' hair was dark and messy, Kenneth's was fair and flat. Where James' eyes were obscured by the rectangular frames of his glasses, Kenneth's were obscured, more often than not, by his very straight, very flat fringe.

"Lily," said Kenneth.

"Yeah?"

"Didn't you have something to do at break?"

And thus Lily's mind was sent back to a moment five minutes earlier, back when she was the first person out of History.

_She had a mission for the three hours or so she had between History and her next lesson, and was keen to start early._

"Fuck!" she cried, and pelted down the corridor. Then, halfway down the corridor, she spun around and headed back towards the two boys.

"Forget something?" said James, raising his eyebrows.

"Yep!" Lily hopped up onto her tip toes and planted a short kiss on Kenneth's lips. This caused James to make a face that would not look out of place expelling vomit off the side of a ferry.

"You finish last today?" asked Lily, trying very hard not to meet James' eye (who was refusing to move or look away from her over Kenneth's shoulder).

"I do," said Kenneth. "Do you?"

Lily nodded and began to back away. "I do. Come to mine after school?" Before Kenneth could respond Lily was sprinting away. "I might be back in time for lunch!" she called over her shoulder. Then she was gone.

"What was your name again?" asked Kenneth, turning to face him. "Other than Magnificent, of course?"

James chuckled. "See you around, Kenny."

* * *

"Thank fuck for that!"

Dorcas Meadowes had been worried that morning. She had been filled with concern ever since Janine had uttered those dreaded words, "Cas, I don't have Maths today so we won't be in the same class."

Dorcas could have sworn her heart had nearly stopped.

People who did Maths were not the sort of people she wanted to get to know. The trouble was that she did Maths, and she would be on her own, and she couldn't feasibly stop talking. Dorcas would be forced to talk to someone wholly undesirable like a Richie or boys with fully fledged stationary kits. Either way, it wouldn't be pleasant. That was, until she spotted Remus Lupin, and exclaimed, "Thank fuck for that." Miss Vector gave her a sharp look for swearing, but Dorcas was too busy throwing her bag down on the floor and herself down in the chair beside Remus.

While she wasn't exactly 'friends' with Remus, she thought he seemed nice enough. He might not have been her type (being the same age as her and not even slightly athletic) but she thought he looked like a good listener. Dorcas had always revered the ability to listen well. Well, in others. She was bound by no such reverence. Dorcas had almost certainly been born to be listened to.

"Are you alright?" asked Remus, frowning at her flustered face.

"I was so worried!" she cried. Dorcas unpacked her things in a rather aggressive manner, almost sending her pencil case off the other side of the desk. "You don't mind if I sit here do you?" she asked.

Remus said that she could. Not that he had much choice in the matter.

"So I've had a dreadful morning," Dorcas sighed, beginning the story that would promptly be titled the "He Doesn't Want To Talk To You So Leave Him And His Supposedly Exposed Genitals Alone" story.

Just when he thought he better start digesting the idea of sitting next to Dorcas Meadowes for a whole year in Maths, someone took the empty chair on his other side.

"Mind if I sit here?" asked James Potter, following Dorcas' tactic of sitting before asking.

In any case, Remus was glad for the distraction. Not that he had much choice in the matter.

James Potter did not have a pencil case to fling across the table. It seemed all he had brought was a notepad. Possibly a pencil as well.

"Oi you don't have a pen do you?"

"Wouldn't you rather a pencil?" asked Remus, handing over a biro (embarrassed at how chewed the end was). "You can't use a pen for Maths."

James clicked the pen dramatically and stared back at Remus, smirking as he did so.

"You haven't brought any stationary at all?" Remus looked over at James' side of the desk once more for confirmation. "Not even a ruler?" he cried.

"My mind is an endless source of utility," said James.

Remus snorted, "I'd like to see you draw a straight line with it."

Dorcas was still talking, either unaware or not bothered that nobody was listening.

* * *

If Remus had hoped that James' presence would decrease the time he spent listening to Dorcas, he was mistaken.

"False," said James, slamming his hand down on the table.

"Excuse me?" asked Dorcas, who had just finished relaying The Penis Story and the subsequent times she tried to speak to Colin. "What do you mean false?"

"Your story makes no sense," James explained.

"Well that's not news," said Remus from in between the two.

Dorcas ignored this and continued to badger James.

"How does it not make sense?" she said.

"Well you said he whipped 'it' out?"

"Yes."

"And then you laughed?"

"Correct."

"And now he won't talk to you?"

"Not one word."

"Your story cannot be true," said James matter-of-factly, leaning back in his chair (he had not written anything down all lesson) "No boy tries to slip a girl his goodies and then doesn't talk to her after being rejected. Any decent bloke would buy her a drink and have a chat. Make sure that there are no hard feelings and all that. Then, when things are all smoothed over, you try for a bit of boob action."

Dorcas and Remus both looked back at James with mutual expressions of disbelief and confusion.

"Do you know this from personal experience?" asked Remus at the same time Dorcas said, "But I let him touch my boob already."

James shrugged.

"All I'm saying," he said, "is that no bloke gives up on a girl that easily."

"Not every bloke is as mental as you are," said Remus, grinning a little.

Dorcas didn't say anything.

"You know I'm right," said James, looking past Remus and directly into Dorcas' big blue eyes. "Your story just doesn't make sense."

"But-," she tried.

"You know I'm right," he repeated. "Now if he really is ignoring you there can only be one reason: he doesn't want to talk to you so leave him and his supposedly exposed genitals alone."

Silence followed.

Remus kept looking nervously at Dorcas, a little terrified that she might suddenly burst into tears. James spent the rest of the lesson doodling lions on the table with Remus' pen.

As soon as Miss Vector dismissed them, Dorcas was up and out of her seat, not glancing back. Remus packed steadily, in no real rush to get to lunch. When he got to his feet, he noticed James was waiting by the door.

"Come to lunch with me?" he asked.

Remus followed James. Not that he had much choice in the matter.

* * *

"I see we're celebrating freedom from uniform by wearing an unfathomably short skirt," said Mary.

Dorcas Meadowes was indeed wearing a terribly short skirt for such a chilly day, and so Mary Macdonald was not wrong in her observation. However, it seemed that Dorcas was in no mood to be  
teased.

"Cheer up," said Mary, nudging her friend as they walked towards the common room. The common room was one of the benefits of being in sixth-form. It was painted in a cold blue and filled with furniture that would even be rejected by the homeless. Polly and Janine were already there, lounging on a yellow sofa that looked like it had originally been white.

"Cas, what's wrong with your face?" cried Janine. "You look more miserable than Mary."

Polly, beside her, laughed nervously.

Mary didn't retaliate to Janine's jibe. She rarely did.

"I'm fine," said Dorcas. "I just didn't understand anything in Maths."

"You always understand Maths," said Polly. Everyone ignored this; Polly was easy to ignore. Due to this, Dorcas' excuse passed. For now at least.

* * *

Remus did have to admit (not verbally of course) that James Potter was interesting.

"I hate tomatoes," said James, looking at his sandwich disgustedly.

Well, he was far more interesting than any of the other boys he had encountered in Sowsworth at any rate.

"I'll have to remind Angie that tomatoes are evil."

Remus smiled.

"Anyway, enough about my escapades at Birdworld," said James. "How are you? What escapades can you tell me about? Ever jousted with a Flamingo?"

Before Remus could respond, the boys were interrupted.

"James Potter," Sirius greeted, nodding his head slightly as he did so.

"You know Sirius?" asked Remus.

"Hello, Sirius. Did you just bow to me?" said James, ignoring Remus.

"No."

"I think you did," said Remus.

"Do you, Wheezer?" Remus' eyes narrowed at Sirius' words. "Are you sure about that? You weren't too busy coughing to notice?"

"Your hilarity knows no bounds."

James chuckled, leaning against the wall and folding him arms, getting comfortable for the fight he hoped would take place.

"This is why you don't have any friends," said Sirius. "People are just so in awe of your cutting wit and sarcasm that they're intimidated."

Remus rolled his eyes and said, "What's your excuse for being friendless? You're scared that friendship will take up too much of the time you usually allocate for kicking infants and brushing your stupid hair?"

"Just because I'm naturally attractive doesn't mean you can judge me," said Sirius.

James couldn't help but chime in, "So you two are really close then?"

He was met with glares from both of them.

"Potter, why are you hanging around with Wheezer?" asked Sirius, distancing himself from said Wheezer.

Remus watched Sirius take his place beside James but didn't say anything.

"Why shouldn't I hang around with him?" said James.

Sirius let out a roar of laughter.

After James looked at him questioningly, Remus muttered, "I told you hanging around with me wouldn't do you any favours." James noticed just how weary Remus looked.

"I'm being dead serious now," said James. "What has Remus done that's got everyone avoiding him like the plague?"

In response, Sirius mimicked a coughing fit. Apparently this was an adequate explanation because when he was finished, Sirius looked rather pleased with himself and Remus looked worse off.

Turning to James, Remus asked, "You aren't seriously mates with Black are you?" James' silence on the subject confirmed it to be true. "It's just as well I suppose. I said I wasn't a very good friend."

James looked apologetic enough, but it was hard to believe when Sirius took his place at James' side.

"I don't know him that well," said James.

Sirius pursed his lips at the comment, but Remus was calmed by it. Just when James thought that he had brought some peace, everything turned to shit again.

"How are you feeling, Sirius?" asked Remus; having regained a little confidence he even smiled. "The coughing fit didn't mess up your hair too much, did it?"

"I don't know what's more offensive about that comment; the rude content or the terrible quality."

* * *

Lily made it back for the second half of lunch. Assuming (correctly) that Kenneth would be playing football, she went directly to find her friends.

"What's in there?" asked Mary, referring to the cardboard box in Lily's arms which, judging by the volume of Lily's groan upon placing the box on the table, was rather heavy.

"The newsletters," she explained. "I just collected these from Angie."

Lily opened the box to reveal at least a hundred black and white newsletters. The top page read: "Save The Prewett Farm"

"Where's Cas?" asked Lily. "It's her bloody newsletter!"

"With your bloody political agenda," breathed Janine.

Polly took a newsletter and started the read from it: "Don't let our community die."

"I wrote that bit!" said Lily with a smile.

"What a surprise," said Janine.

Lily pretended she hadn't heard. Instead she asked once more, "Where's Cas?"

"She went to the toilets about ten minutes ago and hasn't come back yet," said Janine. Polly giggled.

Polly giggled a lot, especially when she didn't understand what the others were talking about, which was often.

"Has Fabian seen these yet?" asked Mary of the newsletters.

"Not yet," said Lily. "Is something wrong with Cas?

Mary shot her a meaningful look.

"Right," said Lily. "I'm going to find her. Would you mind handing a few of these out?" She gestured to the box before running off.

Janine didn't take a newsletter.

* * *

James discovered that Remus and Sirius, though not well acquainted, could not be within ten feet of each other without a major disagreement over something arising. Obviously two people so different in disposition and background were not going to get on well. Not in this bloody village at any rate.

"Alright," said James through gritted teeth, looking from Sirius to Remus. "As entertaining as it is to watch you two try and tear each other's throats out, it's getting to the point where one of us should really leave."

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Now, I'd leave myself," James continued, "but for some reason I'm concerned about your staying-aliveness and I don't trust you two alone together."

"So what? We flip a coin?" said Remus bitterly. "Do you know what a coin is?" he asked Sirius. "Or have you only ever seen money in paper form?"

With a smug grin, Sirius pulled a two pence piece from the pocket of his black jeans.

"This is ridiculous," said Remus, jumping up.

"Yeah we're not flipping for who gets to stay," said James.

"What I mean is that I'm not going to compete for your friendship," said Remus, looking at James. "Sorry but I'm not that desperate. Not yet."

Sirius laughed, "What a stunning mixture of self-respect and pathetic."

James and Remus both shot him a glare.

"You know what," said James. "I don't understand what you two have against each other! You both seem like decent people to me."

"James Potter, you are an absolute twat!"

The three boys all turned to see an angry ginger girl storming down the corridor towards them.

"Shit," said Sirius. "Evans is pissed."

Once Lily had reached them, she slapped James on the shoulder sternly.

"Hi, Lily," said Remus.

"Hi, Remus," she replied, not taking her eyes off of James. "What have you got to say for yourself?" she asked him.

James was thoroughly confused by this question. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I have no idea what I've done wrong this time."

"You made Dorcas cry!"

"Who's Dorcas?"

He got another slap for that.

Remus leaned forwards to explain, "She's the blonde in our Maths."

"Oh, the mental girl who lies."

Lily didn't disagree with this description. Instead she took a step closer to James. "You are an unimaginable git, you know that!" she said. "I honestly don't know if you've ever thought about the consequences of your actions. You can't just say and do what you like and expect people to just take it on the chin! Here take one of these." Lily held up her right hand, which was clutching several sheets of paper with black and white print.

"What's this?" asked James, taking one from her.

"A newsletter about the Prewett Farm," Lily explained. "And just so you know, James, you're starting to really get on my nerves. I've tried giving you the benefit of the doubt, but I just don't think you deserve it."

"What about the Prewett Farm?" Sirius interrupted.

"Surely you must know," said Lily. "Your parents never mentioned anything about a golf course."

"I don't listen to my parents even when they do talk to me."

"Oh."

"So what's this all about?" he pressed.

Lily began to explain, "The Prewetts can't afford to keep going so the Richies are going to buy out their farm and turn it into a golf course. I sort of commandeered Cas' newsletter this week to get the word out because I reckon we have to save it. For one thing, we can't let the Richies take over any more of our village. Furthermore, we can't let such a beloved and hard-working family like the Prewetts be cast out on their arses. Another thing, it would be wrong to have-"

"Alright spare me the essay now. I'll read it later," said Sirius, holding out his hand for a newsletter. Remus looked at him suspiciously as Lily handed him one. Sirius shrugged and said simply, "Everybody knows poor is cool."

Remus took a newsletter for himself, thanking Lily as he did so, before he walked off.

"Good riddance," muttered Sirius.

It took a moment for James to make the decision, but he went after Remus. He didn't find him due to the fact that he didn't have a clue where anything was yet. Suffice to say, Sirius was none too pleased at being left behind.

Lily was sufficiently confused at this bizarre interaction between James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black. They were three so very different and separate people she wondered what it was that had brought them together in the first place. She had seen Remus talk to James once before, of course, but she had never imagined it would lead to anything more. Remus was alone perpetually. Or so she thought.

Lily didn't have the chance to query the last remaining member of this absurd trio; Sirius had disappeared too.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Lily went into her last lesson of the day (French) quite contently. She picked a seat on an empty table of four, placed her bag on the desk, and entertained herself with tapping out a tune with her fingers.

It was an unforeseen unpleasant experience that James Potter would sit beside her.

"Evans, we meet again," he said with a grin.

"James, I'm not in the mood for your nonsense."

He clutched his chest. "Lily Evans!" he exclaimed. "I am but a simple boy, a stranger to this land. I know only a handful of people. Are you really going to deny me the joy of sitting next to one of the few people I've spoken to before?"

"I'm just trying to help you make new friends," said Lily.

"How inconsiderate of you," he said. "You know I'm painfully shy."

It was very hard for her not to smile. Luckily, something else caught James' attention.

"Remus!" cried James, noticing the boy enter the classroom. "Come sit here."

The sincerity of this request won Remus over. That, and the fact that nobody ever really asked Remus to sit with them.

After he was certain that Remus was settled in the seat across the desk from him, James could turn back to Lily.

"Evans, how good are you at French?" he asked. "I might need someone to help me revise before the exams. I find that a good old-fashioned revision session always does the trick." He winked at her.

"I don't think there's anything old-fashioned about what you're suggesting, Potter," she replied coolly.

"On the contrary," said James. "It's so old-fashioned, it's biblical."

Without saying anything in response, Lily stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" asked Remus.

"Sorry, Remus, but I can't sit next to this idiot all year. I'm moving tables," she said.

At that moment, inconveniently, Miss Babbling entered the room all in a dither. "I'm so sorry I'm late, class!" she said through heavy breaths, scrambling for a piece of chalk. "Miss Evans, please sit down."

Lily was forced to sit back down again beside James Potter.

James whispered, "You've not had much practice in dramatic exits, have you?"

"Now," Miss Babbling spoke in a loud voice. "I'm going to spend the first few weeks going over the grammar you learnt last year- Mr. Black you are late."

Everyone turned to see Sirius leaning against the doorframe. "So sorry, Miss," he said dryly.

"Take a seat then!" she cried impatiently.

It was inevitable really. There was no point in hoping otherwise. Sirius would do as Sirius would do, and Sirius would take the seat beside Remus.

After about ten minutes of teaching, Miss Babbling set them off to work as groups on matching French words to tenses.

Their table was quiet. Not even James had anything to say.

"Well this is romantic," said Sirius, breaking the silence. "It's like a reunion from half an hour ago in the hall."

* * *

Having spent the past hour dreaming of the end of French and being able to escape from the horrors of James Potter(who had spent his past hour trying to tell Lily she had small breasts in French) Lily was none too amused when he followed her from the classroom to the front gate.

She tried to ignore how close he was on her heels, telling herself that his way home was, by circumstance of location, the same way as hers. They both lived in the village and so they would naturally exit the school the same way.

What as unnatural was someone else's presence by the front gate; Severus didn't live in the village anymore.

"Hi, Lily," said Severus. He fell into step beside her as she passed.

"Shouldn't you be going 'round the back and up the lane with the rest of the Richies?" she asked, not quite meeting his eye. That urine stained and all too expensive suit jacket still festered away in her mind.

"I thought I could walk you home," he said tentatively.

Lily stopped walking and looked up at him. She thought perhaps that seeing the hurt and confusion in her best friend's eyes would subside her anger substantially. She had no such luck and, as she stared straight ahead at Severus, Lily wondered if James was still behind her.

"I'm really sorry, Sev," she sighed. "I promised Kenneth I'd meet him after school," (which was a lie). "I'll talk to you later though, okay?"

It was evident in Severus' face that this was not okay, but Lily had already given him a quick squeeze on the arm in parting and walked through the front gate. She didn't look back. If she had, she'd have seen James Potter stick his foot out in deliberate sabotage. She'd have also seen Severus lose his balance and almost crash to the floor. But she didn't look back.

* * *

Kenneth was late, but then again he always was. One of the main similarities between Kenneth Pritchard and Lily Evans was the ease with which they were distracted. You could be having a lengthy and enjoyable conversation with Lily about the ethics of a minimum wage and suddenly find yourself abandoned for a bowl of soup or a butterfly. In much the same way, you could be spilling your heart out to Kenneth but find yourself talking to nothing if he were to catch a glimpse of a football.

Lily assumed that Kenneth was late for football related reasons and, knowing that he would show up eventually, was not bothered by this. Instead she thought she would use her spare time to retrieve those magazines from beneath her bed, along with a notebook already thick with glue and cuttings.

"Sorry I'm late," said Kenneth, sticking his head around Lily's door. She'd heard her mum let her in so she'd already hidden the notebook and magazines away.

"No worries," she said, leaning over to kiss him as he sat down on the bed beside her. "Hey, you don't happen to remember what it was you were asking me in History this morning, do you?"

Kenneth frowned slightly. "I'm not sure. Why?"

"I'm terribly terribly curious."

"Ah, well then." He grinned. "I don't know exactly. Do you remember what the question was about?"

"The new boy." Lily wasn't entirely sure if Kenneth actually knew James' name yet. Besides, it was easier to refer to his as the new boy rather than label him James; she was annoyed with James.

Chewing the inside of his mouth in contemplation, Kenneth racked his brains for Lily. Until, finally, he remembered.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I wanted to know if he was any good at football."

Lily couldn't help but be a little disappointed by this question, harmless as it was.

* * *

"Afternoon, Angela," James called, kicking off his shoes as he entered the hallway of his aunt's house.

"Don't call me Angela!" Angie cried from the kitchen. "And don't just leave your shoes lying around where anyone could trip over them."

James rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. After throwing his belongings on his bedroom floor, James joined Angie in the kitchen to 'help' her cook dinner. This largely entailed eating and not a lot of actual cooking.

"What are these?" asked James, spotting a pile of paper on the kitchen table. The closer he got to the pile, the more obvious it became what it comprised of: those bloody newsletters. "Angie, what are you doing with all of Lily Evans' newsletters?"

At Lily's name, Angie actually stopped cooking and turned to face her nephew. "You've made friends with Lily Evans?" Her eyes widened.

James snorted, "I wouldn't say 'friends'. I can assure you that she wouldn't either." Angie was smirking at him. "Anyway that's not the point. What're you doing with all of these?" He gestured to the pile.

"I printed them for her," Angie explained. "And she told me to keep a load and hand them out to the adults around the village."

James was inspecting the topmost newsletter.

"You want one?" she asked.

"Nah I've already got one. I just haven't read it yet." James sunk into a chair, his eyes not leaving the page. "Lily wrote this, did she?"

"Most of it."

Angie returned to her cooking and waited for James to speak first. He was silent until he reached the very last word on the very last page. Then he asked, "Do you know Lily well?"

Another smirk adorned Angie's face (a Potter family trait it seemed).

"Most people know Lily. She's a friendly girl," she said. "Why? What do you want to know about her?"

* * *

Remus Lupin was absent from school for the rest of the week.

* * *

**AN: **Thanks so much for reading! I love you all!

Reviews make my day and I really do appreciate feedback.


	5. Adventures in Competitive Exercise

**AN:** I have kept you all waiting far too long so thank you for your patience and I will make you wait no longer. Here's chapter five.

* * *

Sowsworth had done a lot for James in the past few weeks. He'd made friends (albeit they either hated each other or him), he'd found a new way of messing up his hair, he'd grown at least half an inch, and he'd found a new pastime: bothering Lily Evans.

If he didn't have a lesson then he would go and bother Lily Evans. If there was a lesson he didn't want to go to then he would go and bother Lily Evans. If he was bored he would go and bother Lily Evans. If he was tired, hungry, lonely, happy, sad, homesick, horny then James would go and bother Lily Evans.

If he was honest, he did not know why he needed to bother her so much. All James knew was that Lily had not said one word to him since their first day back at school, and if he had to bother the words out of her then he would.

This bothering took many forms, usually involving a reference to his crotch. That Monday morning, however, it involved running onto the football field and kicking the ball away from her boyfriend Kenneth.

James had every intention of turning to face the spot where Lily was standing with her friends at the edge of the pitch. He would then give her the thumbs up and wink. Unfortunately, his view was obscured by Kenneth's wider-than-expected teammates.

"Potter, what the hell are you doing?"

"Oi, New Boy, who said you could play?"

Kenneth did not heckle (he rarely did). Instead, he chortled.

"That tackle wasn't half bad, Potter," he said. "How about you join us for a game?"

James could see a glimmer of red hair in the distance. He would be delighted to join Kenneth and his friends for a game.

It should be noted that while James Potter generally exaggerated his abilities in most things, he was, in fact, an exceptionally fantastic football player. The best on that field by far. Had he just followed the rules of the game, the boys would have almost certainly taken a great liking to him. Of course, he could not simply follow the rules.

James wasn't entirely sure if Kenneth was on his team or not. Nevertheless, he tackled him at every possible opportunity, making sure to score a goal immediately afterwards. He was running circles around the other boys, and was never quiet in his victory (just in case Lily had missed it). By the time James 'accidentally' knocked Kenneth to the ground, the rest of the boys had had just about enough of him.

"Are you demented or something, Potter?" cried a spotty boy with large lips James thought might be called Warren Stebbins.

James was too busy laughing as Kenneth struggled up out of the mud to keep an eye on Lily, allowing her to push past him without him stopping her. James stopped laughing when he saw Lily crouching over her floored boyfriend.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, pushing Kenneth's fringe out of his eyes.

Kenneth looked from Lily, to James. Then, he grinned. "I'm absolutely dandy." He didn't take his eyes of James as he said, "You're not half bad are you, Potter?"

"Fantastic is what you meant, I think," said James. "Fan-tas-tic. Three syllables. Meaning that something is so wonderful its existence makes onlookers believe they are fantasising. Synonyms include: James, Potter, James Potter's hair, James Potter's football skills, and Lily Evans' legs." He gave her a wink as he said it. He could gain nothing from her silent glare in return, so looked to Kenneth.

Kenneth's grin did not fade as Stebbins and a gawky, olive-skinned boy who went by Jones lifted him to his feet. No injury was visible other than a tiny rip in the knee of his school trousers. James had not done much damage to Kenneth, emotionally or physically.

"You should play with us more often," said Kenneth.

This was perhaps the perfect moment for James to bridge a friendship with the boys of Sowsworth, a people he had not really interacted with. At least not properly. True he had had several mysterious encounters with Sirius Black (most of them resulting in sitting on a hilltop, drinking whiskey, and getting confused over constellations), not to mention his attachment to Remus Lupin (who had proven to be most helpful in calling the attention of the Richies due to the fact that they will verbally attack any person who so much as walks near the one they call "Wheezer"). However, Sirius seemed to be less familiar with the people of Sowsworth than even James was, and Remus was notably absent for at least three days a week. For the most part, James was an outsider. If he had wanted a way in, this was it.

Scowling down at Kenneth (who, although now standing, was still a good half a foot shorter than James), he sucked in sharply through his teeth. "I'm terribly sorry, Kenny," said James, "You're just not my type. I think we're better off staying friends. I'm staying chaste until marriage. I'm not ready for this sort of commitment-"

"Are you ready for a punch in the nose?" asked Jones, interrupting James' stream of excuses.

Before James could respond to this threat, Kenneth spoke. "Look, Potter, are you in or are you out?"

James did not want a way in. James was not looking for friends like Stebbins or Jones or even Kenny and his hopeful grin.

"I don't think so," said James.

Kenneth shrugged, Jones scoffed, but Stebbins pushed his way to the forefront of the boys and, wiggling an accusing finger at James, began to scold. "Do you think you're better than us or something?" he asked. Something in his voice indicated low intelligence; there were undertones of self-consciousness behind his gruff anger.

"Don't worry, Spottins," said James. "I don't think I'm better than you, I know I'm better than you."

Something clicked in Stebbins mind. "Did you just call me Spottins?"

"Is that not your name? I thought it was a happy coincidence that your name matched your face."

Stebbins lunged towards James, hitting him square on the chest and knocking him to the ground. James was half certain that he had broken his arse upon hitting the cold, compact mud, and was almost completely certain that the clasp on his watch had broken the skin on his wrist, but he hid any indication of pain. He used his bad wrist to retrieve his glasses from the ground next to him. They were dirty, but he threw them straight back onto his face.

When the world came back into view, the first shape James saw clearly was Stebbins' foot flying towards his face. James raised his arms as a shield, but several arms were already pulling Stebbins back before his foot and James' face could become acquainted.

"Sorry about this," said Kenneth, who was now holding Stebbins with a firm arm around his neck. "Warren does tend to get overemotional, I'm sure he's filled with regret for what he did."

Stebbins face, currently squashed between Kenneth's upper arm and stomach, did not bear the slightest hint of regret. In fact, he looked very much like he was struggling to break free so he could complete his mission of killing James. A far-too-large-for-his-age-and-species boy relieved Kenneth of Stebbins, holding the spotted boy at least three inches off the ground with two firm arms around his legs.

"Could y0u put me down, Tim?" asked Stebbins, waving his arms around in protest. "This is fucking humiliating."

Tim's voice was deep as he said, "Not until you calm down."

All of this was so amusing that James' concentration was devoted entirely to the scene before him, which is why he gave a start when he heard Lily's voice in his right ear.

"Calm down," she said, trying not to laugh at his frightened expression. "I was just coming to make sure you were okay."

"I could be no calmer, Evans," said James, feigning nonchalance.

Lily scoffed. "Oh, really? Your wrist is bleeding."

"I love how concerned you are about me. It's the age old story: girl worries about boy's wrist, girl uses her own wrist to take over previous duties of said wrist."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "You know, I could easily convince Kenneth to set Stebbins on you."

"How?" asked James. "Is Kenny indebted to your vagina?"

"He's indebted to my history notes, but thank you for implying I manipulate people with my genitalia."

"You're welcome."

"Let me see your wrist."

"Men don't bleed."

It suddenly occurred to him that Lily was engaging him in conversation, something she had not done for two weeks.

There was a thud, and both Lily and James' heads whipped around to see Kenneth, Jones, and several others try to detangle the mess that was Stebbins and Tim on the ground.

"For God's sake, Tim!" cried Stebbins. "Let me go! I'll leave the bastard alone!"

"Swear it!"

"I swear on Maureen Baddock's tits!"

Tim released Stebbins at once.

"Who is Maureen Baddock and where can I find her chest?" asked James, still on the floor. He tried to see Lily's reaction to his question, but she was already standing up. Fortunately, he did get a nice shot of her tight-clad legs.

"Listen, Potter," said Stebbins, making sure to keep his distance. "If you think you're so much better than us lot, why don't you prove it?"

James narrowed his eyes. "I thought that match we just played was proof enough. Or rather, the match that I just played, and you stood picking at your scabby face throughout." The wit of this retort was negated a little by the fact that James was still on the floor, trying to conceal his bleeding wrist.

Lily had vanished from sight completely.

"How about we settle this like adults?" suggested Kenneth.

"What does that mean?" asked Jones. "Have a cup of tea and share war stories with undertones of racial prejudice?"

One of the boys James did not know scoffed at this. "Undertones?" he cried. "Clearly you've never heard my dad talk about Korea."

James took this brief distraction as an opportunity to stand up. "Look," he said, regaining their attention once his hand and wrist were stuffed into his pocket. He tried not to wince at the stinging. "Are we going to mock the narrow-mindedness of our forefathers or are we going to admit that I am better than all of you?"

To James' surprise, it was Jones who walked forwards, not Stebbins.

"Okay, Potter," said Jones. "How about we settle this, as Kenneth said, like adults?"

"Yeah!" cried Kenneth in approval. "Let's all behave like adults."

Jones continued his settlement, "We challenge you to a football match: five of us versus one of you."

"Wait, no!" Kenneth tugged on Jones' shoulder. "That's not fair or adult!" He turned to face James. "You can find four people to be on your team with you."

"Thank you, Kenny," said James. "But I could probably manage by myself."

Jones gestured wildly towards James. "You see this! This behaviour needs childish treatment."

James frowned. "If you two are going to act as my parents you should know I expect an allowance of one hundred pounds a week."

"Five versus five," interrupted Kenneth. He held out his right hand for James to shake. "Next Monday at lunch."

"What does the winner get?" asked James, eyeing Kenneth's stubby fingers sceptically.

Kenneth shrugged. "A trophy?"

"Okay then," said James, holding out his left hand for Kenneth to shake (his right was being bled on in his pocket). "But only because I like shiny things."

Kenneth dropped the hand he had extended to James, holding out his own left hand to shake James'.

"I'll see you kids around," said James with a wink, turning and walking away.

"Until then you're barred from the pitch!" called Stebbins. Tim pinched his shoulder.

* * *

James was already regretting his decision to accept Kenneth's proposal. If only he had been able to keep distracting them with witticisms until the bell rang, he would be safe. Unfortunately, he had just been forced to agree to a football match at which he was supposed to show up with four other players on his team. James didn't like to admit defeat, but he was truly and utterly buggered. Who the hell was he supposed to recruit? He knew next to no one in this bloody village.

Just then, one of his few acquaintances appeared at his shoulder.

"Oi, Potter," said Lily. "How's the wrist?"

"Not bleeding," said James. But Lily had not waited for his response. Instead, she had gripped just below his right elbow and yanked his hand out of his pocket. The pierce in his skin was shallow, and only a trickle of blood was pouring from it.

"Well, it's not as bad as a thought," she said, as James whimpered in pain. "Don't go crying, I have something for you."

"Used knickers?"

She held up a plaster. "I borrowed this from Mary."

"Tell her I'll get it back to her as soon as possible," said James.

"You're hilarious," said Lily dryly. "You can keep it." She ripped open the packaging and, very carefully, placed the plaster over his wound. "There you go, you're as good as new."

James rubbed the plaster sheepishly. "Cheers, Evans," he said, but once the plaster was put on, Lily had left.

* * *

Lily found Severus in the library. He was slumped on the floor by the cookery books, scrawling notes in the margins of a chemistry text book that rested on his lap.

"Why did you lie to me about your suit?" she said by way of greeting.

His head snapped up at once.

"Lily," said Severus. "What are you doing here?"

"I can to ask you the question you're avoiding," said Lily, crossing her arms and leaning against the shelving. "Why did you lie to me?"

He felt his mouth drying rapidly.

"Well it's one of two reasons, Severus," she said. "Either you're ashamed of your new lifestyle, or you're ashamed of having me around all your new rich friends so you're trying to keep me at an arm's length."

Severus had managed to regain his composure, and an angry expression found its way onto his pointed face. "Why are you bringing this up now?" he demanded, getting to his feet. "I suppose this is why you've been avoiding me for the past two weeks!"

"I haven't been-"

"Oh, leave it out, Lily," he said. "I can tell when you're avoiding me. You've been 'busy' every single day since last Monday!"

"Fine," she admitted. "I've been pissed off at you."

"Why?"

"Because you lied to me about your suit, Severus!"

"What are you on about?"

"The suit, Sev! The suit you supposedly inherited from your father, the jacket which had a brand-spanking new price tag in it."

"Lily," he said weakly, reaching out to take her hand.

"I don't care how much money you spend on suits, Sev, I really don't! But you're the one who always needs my trust. You beg me to trust you and then you blatantly lie to me!"

"I knew you'd be angry," said Severus bitterly.

"Well, yeah you were right."

Lily concentrated on knotting her fingers in her lap. Severus concentrated on her pretty green eyes, filled with anger towards him.

"I'm really sorry, Lily," he said.

Taking a deep breath, she replied, "Look, I'm not angry with you anymore, Sev. That's why I came here. I didn't want to fight with you."

"Friends?" he asked timidly.

"Always," she confirmed.

And because of that, Severus did not ask her how she had gotten hold of his suit jacket. But he had not forgotten the last person he had seen holding it. James Potter was out to get him.

* * *

"Remus!" roared James upon entering the French classroom that afternoon. "It's been far too long." He took his place opposite Remus, throwing his bag on the floor.

"Hullo, James," said Remus. "How've you been?"

"I've been friendless and alone, bordering on song-writing."

Remus had been nodding at James' words, until the last part. "Song-writing? You write songs?"

"Does replacing the words of already-written songs with body parts or names of people I know count?" asked James.

"I don't think so."

"Then I have not. But I was so distraught I almost did."

"Can you even play an instrument?"

"Not even slightly."

At that point, Lily begrudgingly took her seat beside James.

"Yeah, I've been playing guitar for about five years," said James casually. Lily did not react to this. "In my highest musical opinion," he pressed on, "guitars are easily the best instruments to write metaphorical love songs on."

Remus, seeing James' eyes flicking towards Lily after almost every word he said, smiled. "What kind of metaphors do you use?" he asked, playing along with James' lie.

"All sorts of metaphors. Most of them involve the fire in my loins."

"Not a very original metaphor," said Remus.

"Well the fire in my loins is in fact red hair."

"You have red hair down there?"

James nodded solemnly. "It's not my red hair though," he said. Lily was trying to keep her expression void of any emotion as she scribbled her name at the top of her homework. "It's the red hair of this girl who just can't keep her head out of my lap."

Lily couldn't help but scoff.

"Evans!" cried James, turning in his seat to face the red-haired, red-faced girl. "When did you get here?"

* * *

James spent his Tuesday lunch-time inside. He might have broken Stebbins' James Embargo on the football pitch, but he was unfortunately in detention for not having done his French homework. Fortunately, Sirius accompanied him; Sirius had not turned up to the lesson at all.

"I've decided that learning French is incompatible with my spiritual beliefs," said Sirius, staring at the asbestos ceiling.

"And the belief is?"

"N'apprends pas ce que tu sais déjà," said Sirius, quickly and with an almost-native accent (by James' standards anyway).

"Pardon?" asked James.

"Don't learn what you already know."

"It sounded better when I didn't know what it meant," said James, who was scrawling on the chalk board. "How come you speak French?"

"Quia habui," began Sirius.

"Can you explain in not-French?" James interrupted.

"That was Latin."

"Can you please explain in English?"

Sirius waved a lazy hand in compliance. "Because," he said, in clear and slow English, "I had a tutor."

"For French?"

"And one for Latin, Maths, English, and even one for Philosophy. Ask me anything about Plato."

"I'll give it a miss," said James, letting his hand slide down the chalk board, smudging his drawing a little. "Hey, you didn't happen to have a football tutor did you?"

Sirius sat up a little, leaning on his elbows, so he could look at James. "I had a rugby coach?" he offered.

"No football?"

"My mother thinks football is for poor people," said Sirius. "No offence," he added quickly, seeing the picture James had drawn on the chalkboard: a giant chalk football. "I'm guessing you were never football deprived."

"Team captain," James said proudly. "At my old school anyway."

An awkward and prolonged silence arose between the two boys. James leaned back on the chalkboard, not noticing that the back of his t-shirt would become powdered with the chalk of his drawing. Sirius sat right up, observing how his feet looked while swinging beneath and out from under the table.

"Did you want to play football some time?" asked Sirius, finally breaking the silence.

James grinned. "Funny you should bring up football."

* * *

Although Lily had forgiven Severus, she still found very little time to spend with him. Or anyone else for that matter. The only person Lily Evans made any time to see these days was Fabian Prewett.

"I really can't thank you enough for all you're doing," Fabian said to her on Friday over the lunch table they were sharing. "Sometime I think you care more about saving our little farm than we do!"

"I like doing it," she admitted. "It makes me feel good to know I'm doing good, y'know?"

"Whatever the reason, you're a saint!" And he offered her half of his ham sandwich, which she graciously accepted. "I just wish I could leave this hole of a school and work full-time on the farm."

Fabian was noticeably taller than the rest of the students due to a combination of genetics and being at least a year older than anyone else in the school. The amount of exams he had retaken would make anyone else give up. His twin brother Gideon had not even bothered to attend sixth-form. However, Gideon did not have an overly-supportive and nagging girlfriend.

"How is Hestia?" Lily asked Fabian.

"Overly-supportive and nagging," Fabian answered honestly.

Hestia Jones and Fabian Prewett were going to university together in Wales. They had decided this four years ago, when they had started the two years of sixth-form (or in Fabian's unfortunate case: four years). Hestia had gotten in two years beforehand, but had stayed behind in Sowsworth, waiting patiently (as patiently as expected anyway) for her boyfriend to pass his exams and accompany her.

"Anyway," said Fabian, moving the subject on from Hestia, "where is the rest of the gang?"

By the 'gang', Fabian meant the handful of people Lily had talked into joining the campaign to save the Prewett farm. Members this gang included (and were limited to) Dorcas Meadowes, Mary Macdonald, Benjy Fenwick, Frank Longbottom, and Kenneth Pritchard.

Kenneth's absence could be explained by football, Dorcas' by a meeting with her Maths teacher, Mary rarely turned up when Dorcas didn't, and Benjy and Frank were getting food.

"Benjy and Frank will be here any minute," said Lily.

"Where will we be?" asked Frank, sitting beside Lily.

"Certainly not here," said Benjy, taking the seat on her other side. "Personally I'm still in English. Still no idea what hyperbole is."

* * *

By Friday, James was growing a little bit desperate. With the football match three days away and only Sirius on his team, he was beginning to worry that he might be forced to make either a fool or a coward of himself.

Remus knew James was following him. James knew that Remus knew that James was following him. Yet both parties remained silence. Remus because he was unsure of James' intentions, and James because he was waiting for the right moment. Ideally one where Remus could not escape.

When Remus turned into the toilets, James spotted his moment and ducked in after Remus.

"I'm beginning to think you have a thing for me," said Remus. "Do you have to stand right next to me?"

"Relax!" cried James. "I'm not pissing; I just want a word with you."

"That does actually make it weirder," said Remus, refusing to unzip his trousers with James leering over his shoulder

"I just needed to know if you could play football."

Remus tensed up. "Are you making fun of me?"

"What?" asked James, taken aback.

"You've been hanging out with Sirius all week," said Remus pointedly. "I don't think I need the loo so much anymore."

He left James confused and alone in the horrifically yellow-stained toilet. James made a mental note to question Sirius about Remus, but not until after the football match. Remus wasn't in school on Monday at all.

* * *

James didn't know where Sirius was. He didn't know where Remus had run off to. He was still three men short of a football team. Almost out of habit, he wandered until he stumbled upon red hair. That Friday he found two red-heads sitting opposite each other in the canteen. Lily Evans appeared to be surrounded by boys which was a problem because it left James with very little room to catch her attention.

"Excuse me, sir, but your hair is ginger," said James sombrely, sitting beside the red-head across from Lily.

"James, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Evans, I don't believe I was talking to you," he said, turning back to Fabian. "How long have you been a ginger?"

Fabian laughed and shook his head. "One of your friends, Lily?"

"No," said Lily very quickly. "He's more of an annoyance."

"She fancies me," James clarified.

Lily screwed up her face at him. "Fabian, this is James Potter."

"Nice to meet you," said Fabian, holding out his hand to James. "I don't remember the last time I met someone for the first time."

"I can't remember the last time I saw someone so ginger," said James, shaking Fabian's hand in return. "Oh, now I remember." His eyes found Lily.

A side effect of looking at Lily was seeing the two awkward looking boys either side of her. He recognised that one with the big blue eyes as Benjy from the horror of a jumble sale. The other boy, the one with the mayonnaise and wisps of an attempted beard on his chin, James only knew from sight. They were both in his year, and yet, unlike most of the boys, were inside for lunch.

"You two not big on the football games?" asked James, leaning forwards and hardly seeing Lily at all now.

"We don't play football because Frank is terrible," said Benjy.

The boy James took to be Frank shot the other boy a death glare. "I'm not terrible!"

"Sorry," Benjy corrected himself. "He's not terrible. He just plays with techniques so unique nobody knows how to react."

"That's why they laugh," said Frank.

He and Benjy then burst into peals of laughter.

"Yeah very funny," said James dryly and unimpressed, "How would you both like to be on my team?"

Benjy caught Frank's eye and jerked his head, showing that he'd like to talk to him alone. Benjy and Frank stood in the corner of the canteen, some twenty feet away, and spoke in quiet, decisive tones.

"So," said Lily, breaking the silence that had fallen in their wake, drawing James' attention away from the corner and back to her face. "You're not going to stay all lunch are you?"

* * *

At Eleven o'clock Monday morning, James had a football team of four (including himself) and was desperately searching for one more. Lily was searching for Kenneth. She found Fabian first, her feet predisposed towards his direction.

"Fabian, you were not the boy I was looking for but you'll do for company."

She linked her arm with his and they wandered together.

"You do know how to make me feel special, don't you?" said Fabian. "Which boy were you looking for?"

"Kenneth," said Lily, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Fabian smiled slyly. "No need to get defensive."

"Well who else would I mean?"

"Any number of male companions! Severus," Lily softened at Severus' name, accepting Fabian's point; she did have a few male friends. "Benjy, Frank, you said you were tutoring Tim in English."

"Yeah I get the idea," said Lily, nudging Fabian with her elbow.

"And of course that new boy I met the other day," he finished.

Lily choked, "I do not look for James Potter, James Potter looks for me!"

"What's wrong?" asked Fabian, chuckling. "I thought he seemed nice."

"He is not nice! Trust me!"

"Know him well then?"

"Well enough."

* * *

Lily wasn't sure if the boys' changing rooms were the epitome of the smell of sweat and dirt, but it could easily advertise as so with little contestation. She tried not to make a habit of going in there, but that was the only place she could conceive of Kenneth being this close to the fabled upcoming football match against James Potter, Benjy Fenwick, Frank Longbottom, and whoever else James had charmed into playing with him.

"Nobody's naked are they?" she asked, entering slowly and with her eyes covered. She was immediately swallowed into what felt like Kenneth's arms. "I hope you're my boyfriend."

Kenneth pulled her hands away from her eyes, confirming her suspicions.

"Hello," she smiled up at him. "I was looking for you."

Lily gave his a chaste kiss on the lips before turning to leave. Kenneth called her back.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but here," said Lily, gesturing to the yellow-stained walls and brown-stained floor.

Kenneth shot a look over his shoulder at his team. "Lily, we need your help," said Kenneth. The other boys nodded in agreement. It was obvious they had discussed asking for her help prior to this conversation.

She frowned. "How so?"

"You know this Potter bloke, don't you?"

Looking past Kenneth, Lily noted that Stebbins looked rather better with his top on.

"Too well for my liking," she conceded. The boys all looked at her expectantly. "What?"

"What can you tell us about him?"

"He doesn't have a decent bone in his body?" she suggested. They were unimpressed.

"Does he have a weakness?"

"Short skirts?"

"Is that all you've got?"

"Anything about football."

Lily gave a sheepish shrug. "He seems good at it," she said. Evidently, she did not know enough about James Potter to give a blow-by-blow description of his football-playing techniques. Why did everyone keep expecting her to know these things?

"Sorry," she offered, though not entirely sincere. Lily wrapped her arms around Kenneth's waist. "I'll find a patch of grass to watch you win from?"

* * *

The truth about James Potter's football techniques was that he was, for the moment, with a team of four about to play a game of five against five. Things were not looking up.

"How are you all feeling today?" asked James, trying to hide the stress in his voice as he looked from each of his teammates to the other. Benjy was tying his shoelace, Frank was rolling up the sleeves of his long-sleeved t-shirt, Sirius was inspecting his nails. None of them replied. James tried a different tact. "How about this," he said. "Are you feeling prepared to make up for the fact that we're one player down?"

Sirius jumped to attention immediately, hopping up and down, waving an arm in the air. "Oh, sir, I know the answer, sir! Pick me, sir!"

"Sirius?" said James through gritted teeth.

"We don't care," said Sirius in mock-response.

James flicked him on the ear.

"Calm down, dear," soothed Sirius, "if you want another player I know exactly where to find one."

"Why didn't you say earlier when he was having the panic attack?" asked Benjy, both concerned and amused.

"It wasn't a panic attack," said James quickly. "It was an expression of extreme calm."

Sirius raised a judgemental eyebrow. "Look," he said. "I know a poor bastard who'll do whatever I tell him. I doubt he can play football at all but at least he's another player. There's only one catch."

"Which is?" said James.

"He's a Richie."

Frank scoffed, "So are you, Black!"

"Actually, I'm not, Fenwick!" cried Sirius.

"You're not a bloody local, are you?"

"I'm neither," said Sirius, smoothing down his too-long black hair. "I'm a rogue."

"You're a twat," said Frank.

Sirius turned to lunge at him, but was stopped by James' arm.

James put his face in his hands and groaned. "Not that I care about this match or anything." Benjy snorted at James' words. "But could you please go and fetch your rich git?"

* * *

Sirius had not returned five minutes later. James was now two players down and getting incredibly close to showing some form of stress, which would, of course, be a weakness he would never live down.

He didn't know why this match had become so important to him. It might have just boiled down to testosterone and a biological desire to seem better than the rest. Whatever it was, it was causing him to run his hands through his hair more often than he thought possible in such short a time.

"Are you going to have another panic attack?" asked Frank cautiously.

The match should be starting soon. Kenneth had insisted that they wait until the remainder of James' team showed up before beginning. Stebbins disagreed wholeheartedly but his opinion was silenced with a sweaty hand.

"I'm fine," said James, ruffling his hair out of habit more than anything at this point. Then he spotted her.

"Can I get you anything to calm your nerves?" said Benjy.

"No, I'm fine," said James.

"You sure?"

James was not around to confirm his sureness; he had wandered over to where Lily sat on the grass, crouching down beside her.

"Come to watch me win?" he asked.

Lily's legs were stretched out before her and she tapped the tips of her shoes together to some beat inside her head. She was in a good mood and James was not going to ruin in.

"You're not short on love for yourself, are you?" said Lily, smiling a little at her own joke.

James bowed his head in a chuckle, before raising it slowly and meeting Lily's eyes.

"You've been avoiding me," he accused.

"Not even slightly." Lily grinned. "I've been ignoring your idiotic comments, but I've made no special effort to avoid you."

"Fair enough, Evans. Fair enough."

"You seem short of a team."

"Want to join? Make up the numbers?"

Lily laughed. "I like watching football, not playing it. Especially not in a skirt. Especially not since I'm avoiding you." She narrowed her eyes pointedly.

James' legs were going numb, so he shifted his position and stood with his legs straight, bending over to speak to Lily. "So you're not avoiding me?" he asked stupidly.

"No, but we aren't actually friends and you keep trying to get in my knickers so I'm not obliged to spend time with you either," she replied.

"Unless you're giving me a plaster?"

"Excusing injury I have no obligation to talk to you," said Lily chirpily, tapping her toes. "I think your team's complete by the way."

James looked over to where Lily was pointing and saw that, across the pitch, Sirius had joined Benjy and Frank with a boy James had never met before. James waved a goodbye to Lily over his shoulder as he jogged over to his team.

"Who's this?" asked James, referring to the short, blonde, and (if James was being honest) chubby boy.

The boy mumbled something under his breath.

"Speak up," said Sirius sharply.

The boy's face went from pink to white as he whimpered, "Peter Pettigrew." Peter was visibly terrified of Sirius, and James too for some reason, for he cowered as he spoke to him. "Sirius said I could play," he said very quickly. "I don't want to force myself on your team!"

"Relax, mate," said James, giving Peter a reassuring clap on the shoulder. "You can go in goal."

The teams took their places at opposite ends of the pitch. The rules were simple: no violence, no misconduct with the ball, and the match would end with the ringing of the bell that signalled the end of lunch.

As they were taking their places in defence, Benjy shot Frank a worried look. "You sure you're going to be okay playing in front of all these people?"

"You're not my mother," said Frank. "I told you last week I'd be fine."

The game lasted for roughly three minutes. The bell wouldn't ring for a further twenty.

"You ready?" asked Kenneth of James.

"Never been readier," he replied.

James was the first to take possession of the ball, dribbling it down to the goal and scoring. The ball flew right past an angry and spotted Stebbins.

"You just got lucky, Potter!" he cat-called from between the goal posts. "It won't happen again!"

For all the declarations of James' goal being luck, the opposition did a very good job and not letting him near the ball again. Maybe to make sure he didn't get another burst of luck. Fortunately for James, he had four other players. Unfortunately for James, none of them seemed to be doing much playing.

Frank seemed to freeze every time the ball was kicked anywhere near him, Benjy had failed to tackle the ball from Jones at least six times, Peter was shaking in terrified anticipation of someone trying to score, and Sirius had watched the ball roll past him several times.

"Unless one of you touches that bloody ball in the next minute I will personally see to the removal of your front teeth," cried James, almost taking possession of the ball before he was blocked by three members of the other team. They were making no effort to block the other members of James' team. It was almost impossible for James to get anywhere near the ball.

Miraculously, Benjy managed to tackle to ball off of Kenneth. He then, at once, lost it off the edge of the pitch.

Kenneth was to throw the ball back into play from the sideline. His aim a little too wide, he missed Jones by about an inch, sending the ball hurtling away from target, and landing at the feet of Frank Longbottom.

"Frank!" called James from across the pitch. "I'm open!"

Frank promptly vomited.

* * *

**AN:** I apologise for my attempt at football. Next chapter sooner than this one was!

Thank you so much for all your reviews and continued support! It's really been amazing inspiration for me to write!

Also thanks to my French followers on tumblr who translated Sirius for me.


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